


Where I Belong

by horseluvr00



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Clone Trooper & Jedi Relationships (Star Wars), Clone Troopers (Star Wars) Need Hugs, Force-Sensitive Original Character(s), Gen, Grand Army of the Republic (Star Wars) - Freeform, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jedi Training (Star Wars), Kaminoans (Star Wars), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Planet Kamino (Star Wars), Republic Military (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28858467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horseluvr00/pseuds/horseluvr00
Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she’ll discover where she belongs.Note: Plenty other Clones and Jedi appear in this fic, I just minimized the list to the frequents
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Clone Troopers, Anakin Skywalker & Clone Troopers, CC-1010 | Fox & Original Female Character(s), CC-2224 | Cody & Original Character(s), CT-7567 | Rex & Original Character(s), Clone Troopers & Jedi Character(s), Clone Troopers & Original Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Clone Troopers, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) & Original Female Character(s), Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter One | Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. The Mando'a language material is property of Lucasfilm Ltd. Countless references are made to the Clone Wars television series as well as the Republic Commando novel series by Karen Traviss.  
> Republic Cog header made by me :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what... This chapter is atrociously long and I doubt anyone will read it. If you want to back out now please do so (if you haven't already), but for those crazy enough to continue on, I hope you enjoy :) Fair warning- I'm not a great writer. Trying to improve with little success so be gentle please! :')

“ _We’ve entered the atmosphere, Sergeant. You boys are clear to get ready._ ”

Pressing the button connected to the cockpit via a control panel on the wall, CC-4811, Sergeant Mash, went to respond. 

“Roger that. Drop us 3 klicks south of RV point Axe.”

“ _Will do, sir._ ” 

Lowering his hand, Mash turned, gaze finding his team doing a last minute equipment check before their coming drop into hostile territory. It was helmets on at 100 klicks, they still had another minute or so. 

“Alright, listen up.” Mash held up a datapad, tapping briskly on the screen, a holo of the location of interest shown up into the semi-lit shuttle bay. “Intelligence spotted a Separatist fleet five rotations ago within the Duluur sector. They lingered for one standard Coruscant rotation above Devaron before departing from this sector. It is unknown whether hostiles have taken RV point Bullseye.”

“Why couldn’t we get the debrief on Kamino?” CC-4999, or as they called him, Nines muttered. The squad member was finishing the assemblement of his Deece with a sniper attachment.

“This is a priority mission,” Mash continued. “Retaking Bullseye needs to be done quickly, _quietly_ , and efficiently. Minimal destruction which means no rockets, detonators, or explosives of any kind, hence our silent entry - sorry Hawk.” The smidgen of sympathy in Mash’s voice for their demolition man causes CC-4998, Hawk, to give a small jut of his chin and a twitch of a smile. “The Republic seeks to turn this Temple into a staging ground for Surveillance Operations. Keeping Bullseye standing is top priority; sweep the grounds and wipe out any Separatist forces that may have taken it; preferably all in under a 12 hour window.”

“ _100 klicks out,_ ” The pilot’s voice came over the shuttle’s com systems.

Shutting off the datapad, Mash tossed it to one of the shuttle seats lining the bay wall before grabbing his helmet. The rest of his squad did the same as they all put their helmets on.

“Didn’t really answer the question, Sarg.” Nines uttered while rolling his shoulders, the action causing the armored plates to clunk against one another.

“Skipper said the Jedi were touchy about it, Nines.” 

The kid was a bit of a hot shot but his skill with a rifle more than made up for the snarky attitude.

“They give us confidential assignments for a reason. They want this done quickly and quietly without word getting out.”

The sniper tipped his trigger and middle finger around in a salute that would have most likely made their training sergeant fume at the lack of maturity before turning towards Hawk.

“Bit strange they revived us so quickly.” CC-4803, Corporal Razor stepped up next to Mash. “From what Skipper told me- most get a couple months before they’re pulled for assignment again.” 

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war. 

“Personally I don’t mind - I guess it’s gotta mean we’re doing something right if they keep pulling us for jobs,” Razor added. 

Their advisor on Kamino, Skipper, acted as their go-to man during missions. He’d feed them intel on the ground and organize quick and dirty drops and extractions if the need arose. 

“Trying not to think about it, _ner vod_ (my brother/comprade).” Mash said, the mando’a slipping through his mouth with ease. It wasn’t something other clones knew… More of a perk from their branch of the GAR. If you were lucky, your training sergeant may have taught you the Mandalorian language. The clone flash training made it stick too, so they were fairly fluent. 

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war. 

Not long after the Battle of Geonosis, their squad, Echo squad, was formed. It was created in the wake of each of their losses. Mash had lost all his men, his brothers, and so had Razor who had been Sergeant of his own men. Nines and Hawk together lost their Corporal and Sergeant. Higher ups had pushed them all together for a follow up assignment shortly after Geonosis and they had to get to know each other on the ground the hard way. 

Since then they’d done a few jobs here and there. They all had the same training sergeant so while there was a small grimmer of familiarity, they were still strangers to each other. It took some getting used to, but things had since smoothed out. 

“Sounds like this assignment really is priority. For the Jedi at least. Whatever Jedi was occupying the Temple previously was recalled to Coruscant. It didn’t take long for the Separatists to get word of the outpost’s vacancy it seems.”

“I’ll say,” Razor chuckled beneath his helmet before finishing the tie on his rappelling gear. They’d be dropping into the dense jungle soon. “From what I hear, intelligence still has holes in it. Intel is leaked more often than it isn’t, gotta wonder you know?”

Checking the knot of his rappelling gear a final time, Mash hesitated to respond to Razor’s comment. Razor had always been one for the gossip regarding the Republic’s works. Sometimes that curiosity was useful, but more often than not Mash wished his brother were more discreet.

Word had gotten around, but since the Republic were officially handed control of the army, they’d begun making changes. Their branch of the GAR was getting quite the makeover, however whether the changes were doing more harm than good was still up for debate. Clone Advisors was just one change that had been temporary, but had since stuck around. Certain Clone Officers without fieldwork would act as advisors or middlemen to non-Clone Republic Officers, like the Jedi, still getting a handle on how to efficiently induct the different clones into the conflicts. 

It was a surprise to the Clones when the Jedi, the legendary warriors they’d been told of all their lives, didn’t exactly meet textbook expectations.

It wasn’t their place to ponder the Jedi abilities as Military Leaders, but their corner of the GAR was quickly developing opinions, a ship Mash was hesitant to board. 

“You implying its a higher ups problem?” Mash asked.

“Not necessarily,” Razor responded. “Just something to think about is all. Although, I know you prefer not to.” 

He’d known Razor long before they’d been thrown together in a squad. He’d met him several times on the simulation battlefields during training, and he knew him well enough to detect the humor laced through his voice to understand when he was pulling his leg. 

“Stay focused, _vod_.” Mash muttered, thankful he could hide his own grin as a chuckle from Razor radiated through helmet comms.

“ _Coming in, we’ll be over the drop zone in 30 seconds._ ”

The turbulence picked up in the shuttle as they approached their destination and all members of the squad made their way towards the back of the shuttle bay.

Hawk hit the button for the shuttle’s ramp on the wall control panel and soon enough the roar of the ship's engines took over, causing the sound dampeners in their helmets to kick in.

The shuttle trembled as the pilots pulled up on the controls and the ship stalled above an area of jungle which was where their assignment was to begin.

“Go go go,” Mash ushered each of his men out before going himself. One hand on the rappelling line and the other holding his Deece at the ready, Mash kept his eyes on his comrades heading down the 60 or so meter distance passed a layer of fog into the darkness of the Devaronian jungle. 

Large vines as thick as the bay of the shuttle covered the planet as far as Mash could see, even through his helmet display. Data on the planet mentioned the unique flora which they would encounter; the vines breached the landscape like borrowing Rishi eels, knotted and intertwined together creating a blanket covering the terrain. 

Watching as each of his squad hit the ground, Mash followed as they did in stripping themselves of their rappelling gear as it zipped back up into the shuttle.

Switching comm frequencies, Mash looked up to the hovering shuttle around 100 meters about them. 

“We’re clear, pilot.” 

“ _Roger that sir, have fun down there,_ ” The ramp of the shuttle began to close before it headed off. 

The jungle had fallen quiet once the ship was out of range, and soon enough, the chirping and rustling of native fauna began to grow in the shuttle’s absence. Looking around the terrain, Mash was quick to notice how the ground under the vine canopy was rather barren aside from sparse foliage in the form of smaller vine systems and shrub-like plants. They were going in under the impression that there would be greater amounts of foliage; it would complicate matters for reconnaissance and stealth-based action going forward. 

It was the first bump in the road, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Improvisation; its what they trained for in situations like this.

In a series of blinks, Mash pulled up specs on the surrounding landscape, including humidity levels. They were high enough. Readings indicated it had rained recently.

“Start dirtying up the armor. Foliage won’t provide enough cover so we’ll need to-”

An aggravated grunt caused Mash to turn, finding Nines with his hands braced on his lower back as he craned into a stretch, his Deece in the hands of Hawk.

“They changed this _di'kutla_ (useless/stupid) armor again, didn’t they.” He grunted. 

“The Manual outlined the upgrades,” Hawk reminded his brother with a slight tilt of his helmet, only to receive a mild clock on the shoulder plate from Nines as he got his footing back.

“Who the hell has time for that, do I look like I got time for that?”

“Cut the chatter,” The statement came out firm, although the mild distraction of the hostile territory around them softened his words. “This is hostile territory, so let’s shift it,” Mash gestured forward with his Deece. 

“Dirty up.” Razor shrugged, emphasizing on the Sergeant’s first order before popping off in one direction to start camouflaging his armor. 

Mash watched as Nines lingered on their Corporal walking away before he audibly grumbled, going off in a somewhat similar direction with Hawk.

“I long for the day when I can put this armor to _actual_ use.”

“And how would you go about doing that, Nines?” Hawk asked.

“By using it how it was meant to be used- urban warfare, close quarters… actual fire fights. Not writhing around on a dust ball like Geonosis or making mud angels on this heap.”

The comment caused Hawk to openly laugh, something that if Mash was being honest, wasn’t customary of his younger comprade; however he had to admit it pleased him. He’d always been less of a talker than Nines; more hesitant to accept the new squad; whether it was because of the fate of their old one, or maybe who he had ended up with, Mash wasn’t certain. 

“Keep your trash talk on internal comms, Nines.” Razor reiterated the words as if he had done so multiple times already, which he most likely had.

“Trash talk… _Kebbur haar haat_ (try the truth).” Nines grumbled, before throwing a glob of mud onto his thigh plating, coating one leg in the darkly colored mud.

The kid was all talk. As soon as a superior was around he would 180 and they’d be none the wiser.

Another minute passed before the squad’s signature white armor with red and orange accents were covered helmet to boots in Devaronian mud. The humidity would prove troublesome as they’d need to reapply the camouflage again within the hour.

Exchanging a couple of nods with the men, Mash made a final glance exchange with Razor.

“We’re ready,” The Corporal gave him a nod.

“Then let’s move out.”

A couple hours had passed, and the position of Devaron’s two moons had since shifted across the night sky; they could be seen in the distance adjacent to RV point Bullseye’s structure. The thick layer of fog had been ever present since their arrival, and while it didn’t completely inhibit their line of sight, it was keeping them on their toes.

Spotting subtle obstruction on the ground ahead, Mash held up a fist before gesturing for the men to move forward to a position of cover cautiously.

The Sergeant came to a stop at a large vine almost a meter thick. He kept his back to it as Hawk stopped behind him. 

“I’ve got eyes on the South road.” Nines came to a stop a few meters to their 3 o’clock, kneeling down on one leg before resting his rifle over a low vine breaching the ground, leaning in to look through the scope. 

The Temple had four roads that branched out in each direction, the primary Northern and Southern Roads drew an imaginary line through RV point Bullseye while the secondary Western and Eastern roads connected the courtyards and other smaller facilities to the overall structure. 

“It’s called a promenade, not a road.” Razor muttered as he came to a stop beside the sniper, blaster raised and alert as he observed the surrounding area.

“Yeah I know, the HUD said that, but what the hell is the difference- its a road.” Nines grunted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to hear they’ve updated the HUD’s terminology index on architecture. I can’t think of more vital information to the mission.” The cock of Nines’ helmet only enhanced the sarcasm leaking from his filtered voice as he glanced up at their Corporal. “Looks clear up ahead.”

“No droids?” Mash questioned.

“Doesn’t look like it, Sarg. Zero movement.” Nines responded, gaze back through the scope.

From his crouched position on the ground, Hawk looked up at the Sergeant for a brief moment before glancing towards Razor. 

Going in they’d be simultaneously at an advantage and disadvantage. The enemy had the high ground and not to mention the location in question that needed to be retaken, but the squad had the element of surprise. 

“Alright. Let’s start moving in. Stay sharp and switch to internal comms,” Mash instructed and with a couple of hand gestures, fleshed out their movements going forward.

Like the vigorously tested training exercises on Kamino, the squad began to move in on the target location quickly and quietly. Using the native flora to their cover advantage, the small group made their way up to the Temple road before branching off to the structure’s right side. They’d stay between the Eastern and Southern roads in order to get as close to RV point Bullseye as possible without leaving the cover that the Devaronian vines provided. Once close enough, they could make their way across the courtyard and to the Temple. From there execution of the mission would change. How, was something Mash didn’t know yet.

Loosely following the road’s edge closer and closer to the Temple which was growing up into the sky the further they traveled, Echo Squad finally came to the wall of the courtyard, an area that surrounded the Temple. The wall was just under two meters; a quick scale. 

Stepping up to the wall, Nines lowered his rifle, resting its barrel on the wall before perusing the open and exposed ground ahead. 

“No visuals. All quiet.”

“I’m not liking this,” Razor muttered, tilting his body only slightly towards the Sergeant. “Its sloppy. Even for the droids.”

“Maybe we just came at a bad time,” Nines offered, continuing to scope out the area. “Caf break or… battery recharge- quiet time. What’d droids have these days?” 

“Let’s give it another minute.” Mash decided, craning to look up towards the main Temple structure which was significantly larger than its sibling tower. “We’ll move in if we don’t get-”

“Wait, I’ve got a visual.” 

Mash jerked his head to the right to see where Nines’ scope was aligned, towards the smaller of the two towers. The shutter and chung of metal clanking together in a uniform manner was a sound that had since become familiar to them. 

On Kamino they trained against other clone squads, training staff, and simulation targets. The droids which were now being used by the Separatists weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but it was a somewhat impersonal enemy nonetheless. The droids were designed to overwhelm, something that proved effective against the Republic at Geonosis, especially their branch of the Grand Army of the Republic. 

Part of the reason missions concerning their branch of the GAR were no longer to overlap with Infantry (unless under special circumstances) was because the Jedi thankfully came to their senses on that account. Their branch lost half of their entire force at Geonosis. Their first battle and their kind were cut in half… It unsettled Mash to the point where he preferred to not think about it, but his head constantly reminded him that those nerves wouldn’t help whether he ignored them or not. The Jedi, while they may not have been what they’d expected, were warriors and leaders nonetheless and they’d been taught all their lives that they’d been created to help the Jedi. Things were seemingly off to a rocky start but they’d level out. It seemed they already were, which Mash was thankfully for. He hadn’t worked directly with a Jedi yet, but when the day came he hoped they’d be up to the task of using him and his men to the best of their ability.

The enemy force finally emerged from around the farthest tower, revealing a squad of eight B1 battle droids. The standard, not a problem. However whatever forces may wait within the Temple or around the perimeter was the standing issue. If they had more time, Mash would have ordered a sweep of the perimeter to be safe. But they didn’t have that luxury. Looks like they’d be doing a hard contact entry, sweeping room to room and floor to floor until the entire structure was clear. 

“Well you wanted close quarter combat, _ner vod_.” Mash finally stated, watching alongside his squad as the droid squad went about their patrol of the Temple grounds. “We’ll eliminate this squad first.”

“Soft entry?” Hawk questioned.

“We’ll have to improvise on that front. Debrief mentioned a security system in the Temple. Nothing the droids can figure out, apparently its more of a force user problem, but with the cams they’ll most likely see us coming. We’ll have to hit quick enough to have the advantage inside.”

“What’d you call that, a medium entry, sir?” Nines chuckled, still zoning in on the droids.

“Call it what you want, Nines.” Mash nodded with minor amusement before giving his rifle one last check just to be safe. 

“I’ve got a second droid squad coming in, 2 o’clock off the Eastern road… Looks like it might be a rotation change.” 

“Watch em, Nines.”

“Roger that Sarg,”

“Razor?” Mash turned his attention to the Corporal. 

They always threw ideas off of each other. While Mash was officially in charge, he preferred to keep the title as loose as possible. Razor used to be Sergeant of his old squad, and was demoted to Corporal when transferred to Echo Squad. While they had differing ways of handling situations, Mash understood the wisdom in getting a second opinion. 

An audible sigh came through the Corporal's helmet as Razor looked up at the structure. 

“No easy way we’re getting in there without almost immediate detection. Without the use of explosives or detonators-” The nod he gave was decisive, his voice level and collected. “Looks like we gotta do this t-”

The fading of clanking metal from the droids was quickly and suddenly overpowered by the rumble of a familiar sound.

Looking up through the vine canopy, the members of Echo Squad are met with the image of a Republic Nu-class Shuttle swooping in over RV point Bullseye.

“No,” Mash muttered. “No no no- what the hell are they doing!?” 

“You get anything over comms? Change of plans?”

“No,” Mash growled through grit teeth before quickly swinging a leg up, getting over the wall before gesturing for the squad to follow.

The uninvited guest had already caught the attention of the two squads of B1s as they all began to open fire on the vessel. The fire would do little against the shuttle’s shields. 

As Echo Squad members quickly finish entering the courtyard, the Attack Shuttle’s ramp lowers and four similarly dressed troopers begin rappelling down to the adjacent courtyard.

“I don’t believe this-” Mash snapped before gesturing for the squad to move out and join the fire fight on the other side of the Temple grounds around fifty meters away. 

“There go our medium entry plans!” Nines laughed over the growing sound of blaster fire as they ran to join the conflict.

“Not the time, kid!” Mash barked. 

As they entered the Eastern courtyard that wrapped around the structure, a couple more droid squads came into view. The other Squad of clones that had arrived were keeping a relatively loose formation as they took out the enemy force, for their kind it looked pretty sloppy; or at least not Echo Squad’s style.

Mash knew his squad was on him, and he didn’t have to remind them to keep it tight. They’d cover the enemy force closer to Bullseye and leave the straggling droids to the newcomers. 

B1 Battle Droids had a rather standard targeting system; as they clunked along on a relatively straight path, they’d fire their blasters off in even intervals. They were a fairly easy nuisance to deal with on assignment. When high grades of Separatist droids joined in, and their numbers increased tenfold, that’s when their years of training met their match.

As they made their way across the courtyard and towards danger, Mash got that liquid feeling in his lower body, like his legs would give out and he felt ten times heavier running towards the firefight, he knew that feeling would always disappear as quickly as it appeared. As his training Sergeant would say: _It’s your forebrain shutting down; a fear reflex_. He wondered if his brothers ever felt the same; that trickle of fear. He didn’t doubt it. You’d have to be a fool not to to some extent.

As soon as their presence was made known, and the droids turned their attention to the second squad of troopers approaching, the weight was lifted from Mash’s body and the noise in his head quieted. Time to get to work.

The sound of blaster bolts firing off rang loudly into the silence of the surrounding jungle. Picking off the droids one by one, Echo Squad drew further out into the courtyard, near where the newly arrived squad was. 

The last couple shots came from Hawk as he took down a few straggling droids before the men exchanged a couple of quick glances. The spike of adrenaline that one got during the fight was almost euphoric; relaxing when a brief moment of silence came during the action. 

That feeling was cut short when Mash and Razor turned in time to see the Sergeant of the other clone squad about to throw a detonator at another squad of droids approaching from the Eastern road, most likely coming back from another patrol.

“Hey!” Mash barked before running over. 

By the time the Echo Squad leader was within fifty yards of the other squad, the small explosive had detonated; dirt, droid parts, and some rubble from the road shot up into the air. 

“ _Haar'chak_ (Damn it).” Hawk muttered, exchanging a brief look with Nines before going after their Sergeant. 

“Are you insane?!” 

The shouting caused the members of the other squad to draw their attention back, and eventually the Sergeant turned as well. 

“Who the hell are these guys-” The Sergeant muttered, patting the shoulder plate of one of his men before continuing towards Mash. “Can I help point you back in the direction of whatever mud pit you all crawled out of?” The sarcasm was strong in his voice as he looked over Echo Squad. To be fair they were all completely caked in the Devaronian mud.

“Sarg-” Razor tried to subtly stop his brother from getting physical but Mash was already close enough to shove the other Sergeant backwards a couple of steps. “ _Udesii, vod!_ (take it easy/calm down, brother!)” 

“Under _what authority_ do you think you can just waltz in here an-”

“ _Authority?_ Listen here _vod,_ ” The armored clone points towards Mash. “I’ve got orders to secure that building back there, so unless you’re here to sit back and run recon while covered in that _osik_ (feces/dung) I suggest you back off and let us take it from here.” The other Sergeant seemed all too eager to start smack talking and it took what was left of Mash’s self control to not get any more physical. _Ten years of systematic, precise, orderly training, and as soon as the Republic is given control of the military, everyone seemingly falls off the rails_. 

“I don’t know what kind of information you’re running on, but our orders came directly from the Jedi Temple that _we_ were to scout this location for enemy activity and retake the building with _minimal sustained damage_ .” Mash made clear. “It is obvious that you did _not_ receive the debrief.” 

Taking a step forward, the other Sergeant came within inches of the Echo leader’s helmet with his own.

“What are you implying?”

“Read between the lines.”

“I’m warning you now, _vod. Ne shab'rud'niÖ_ (Don’t mess with me).”

“Bax, come on, _vod_.”

Razor inched his way between the two Sergeants as the other squad member that had spoken up tried to coax his Sergeant into taking a step backwards. 

“Regardless of who should or shouldn't be here- the objective appears to be the same.” Razor made clear, his hand residing on the breastplate of his Sergeant, his other held out towards the other Sergeant who was being held back by who now appeared to be their squad’s Corporal. The tension could've been cut with a vibroblade in that moment.

Razor knew Mash preferred to work alone; at least he preferred their squad working alone. If it was one thing the man hated, it was the liability of variables he couldn’t control - other people potentially ruining his way of doing things. Whether it be Infantry clones, Jedi, or other squads like them, Mash preferred the assignments where it was just their squad, and their squad alone. 

“Taking Bullseye is priority.”

“Taking what?” The other Sergeant muttered. His posture had since relaxed but it was clear he was ticked off and eager to get a move on. 

“RV point Bullseye.” Mash said. It sounded like he spit the statement out through his teeth. 

“...You mean the Tower?” The other Sergeant deadpanned. 

Silence followed and Razor exchanged a small glance with the other presumed Corporal. 

“I’m Corporal fifty-one-thirty-four… 34.” The Corporal stated, lowering his hand from his Sergeant’s breastplate. It was common to just use the last two numbers. Your name was almost always kept within your squad group, and maybe with your training sergeant unless you were comfortable sharing it. It wasn’t the time to exchange such personal details even if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense. “This is fifty-seven-eighty-seven and five-two-sixty.” The Corporal, 34, pointed to the other two men part of their squad. 

The one identified as 87 appeared to be their tech man, while 60 appeared to be carrying the demolitions ordnance. 

34 gave his Sergeant the smallest nudge with his shoulder and the man seemed to begrudgingly think over his options before his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Sergeant five-one-eighteen.” He muttered.

“I’m Corporal four-eight-oh-three,” Razor gestured to himself. “This is forty-nine-ninety-eight and forty-nine-ninety-nine.” Pointing the two out, Razor watched as Nines gave the other squad a jut of his helmet, a sort of nod, and Hawk dipped his helmet down in acknowledgement.

Razor only had to turn a fraction towards Mash for his brother to know he would have to speak up.

“Sergeant four-eight-eleven.” His voice was tight, the remnants of his frustration still hung heavy.

“Now that that’s out of the way, would you all mind moving so we can get to work?” Sergeant 18 gestures somewhat dramatically with his blaster in one hand and a cock of his helmet, swinging the barrel of the blaster with smooth precision to the side.

The silence of the courtyard was growing increasingly harder to ignore, no doubt more droids were on their way from within the Temple walls.

“Sarg-” Corporal 34 started to speak

“We got here first, I suggest you step aside and let us take it from here.” 

“I’ve been dragging my men through the mud of that jungle for five hours- We were on the ground working this mission before you dropped in on the front karking door-”

“I don't give a mott's backside if you’ve been stuck here for weeks I-!”

“Sir, I’ve got movement, south entrance,” The statement came from Nines, currently training his rifle on two squads of droids, including some SBDs (super battle droids), exiting the main doors of the Temple. 

Both Sergeants having turned to see the incoming hostiles seemed to quickly come to the realization that neither of them were getting what they wanted.

Sergeant 18 shot his Corporal a look before cursing under his breath and 34 nodded before he turned more so to face Echo Squad.

“Your call. You were here first.”

Mash clenched his jaw from under his helmet. He didn’t need this but… He couldn’t have it completely his way. 

“Can you manage taking the East Tower without blowing it up?” Mash questioned.

The reluctance was evident in Sergeant 18’s movement as he turned towards Mash and finally nodded.

“...We’ll clear it.”

Exchanging a glance with Razor, Mash returned the nod to the other Sergeant.

“We’ll take the main structure; meet up in the communications center after the Temple has been cleared. If you need to, use comm frequency 0374.”

“Roger that,” Sergeant 18 quickly signals to his men and they take off hastily towards the oncoming droids.

With a shake of his head, Mash turned and watched for a brief moment as the squad of newcomers ran off and began blasting away at the droid force.

Nines watched their Sergeant for a moment before exchanging a glance with Hawk before clearing his throat.

“We uh- clear to move in, sir? I’d rather not let them have all the fun.”

Breathing out through his nose, the Echo Squad Sergeant gave his brother a nod before gesturing for them to get moving. 

“Keep it tight.”

“You say that like we’re gonna run off, Sarg.” Hawk chuckled, falling into a loose formation at Nines’ side with Mash and Razor behind them. 

“Just don’t follow in that crack squad’s shoes, please.”

“Looks like their Sergeant is just a little…” Razor trails off, swallowing the breathy laugh he almost let loose.

“ _Dini'la?_ (insane?)” Nines tried.

He managed to earn a few chuckles with the comment. 

“Let’s just focus on the task at hand, _vod_.” Mash responded, voice a little more at ease. Razor had a tendency to keep the atmosphere as light as he was able, especially in instances like this when tension was high. Nines had his own way of trying to do the same, which usually consisted of poking fun at someone or something. “Same rules apply; no explosives. This building needs to be standing by the time we clear it.”

“Copy that, Sarg.” The humor was laced through Hawk’s voice. 

He was the most mellow one of the squad. Mash didn’t really consider himself to have a great sense of humor, but somewhere along the line, Mash subconsciously decided to always play with Hawk and pretend like he was the trigger “explosive” happy one of the bunch. Hawk played along with it. 

“I call entry,” Nines called out, causing Razor to chuckle before moving up closer to the younger clone to cover his six. 

Despite their mismatched squad, formulated as a result of the losses they’d each received, they were quickly becoming a working unit. If it was one thing Mash knew they all took away from their training, it was the constant snippets of advice and encouragement they’d received from their training sergeant. _Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc (The squad is your weapon). Remember that; you are nothing on your own, and everything together._

“I’ve got movement in the dining hall,” Nines muttered over comms. They were using their internal comm frequency so the droids wouldn’t overhear anything. The other squad hadn’t initiated contact with them on the channel yet, but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. 

“ _Tion'solet?_ (how many?)” Hawk spoke up.

“I said I’ve got movement not a five course meal worth of information ready for you,” Nines shot back.

Hawk just shook his head at his brother’s humor. 

Leaning around the corner, Nines’ HUD marked the number of droids in the room within a beat and he quickly retreated around the corner where the squad was.

“Twelve including a B1 Sergeant and five SBDs. We can use the EMPs right?” Nines questioned quietly to Mash, despite knowing they were on internal comms. 

Electromagnetic Pulse Grenades… Debrief didn’t specifically outline that they couldn’t use them. 

Mash audibly sighed before lowering his rifle a fraction. 

“This is the dining hall. If we end up stuck here a couple days I’d rather raid the pantry than eat ration bars.”

“That’s your argument for not going in with blasters?” Razor questioned, cocking his helmet to the side. 

“.... Yes.” 

“Just this one room.” Mash grunted while shaking his head. “We need to hold onto that ordnance.”

Giving a jut of his helmet, Nines lifted a hand towards Hawk who had the EMP grenades on hand. 

Tossing one to his brother, Nines made his way around the corner and activated the grenade before rolling it into the large room.

A few beats passed before the shuffling and clunking of the metal droids moving about became prominent. 

“What’s that?” The high pitched, animatronic voice was becoming reluctantly familiar before the grenade went off, cutting off any chatter from the hostiles. 

Echo Squad swarmed into the space with deadly precision, shooting down the few remaining droids that were outside the EMPs blast radius before covering the bases of the room.

“Clear!”

“Clear,”

The room was relatively small for a dining facility. Then again, the debrief did reveal this Temple was rarely occupied by more than a few Jedi at a time. 

“What’s left?” Hawk looked towards the Corporal.

“Just Communications; top floor.” Razor turned towards Mash who nodded in agreement.

“While I’m not complaining, the fact that the crack squad hasn’t made contact is a little unsettling,” Nines spoke up once more, taking a seat on one of the tables, slinging his rifle over his lap. 

“Nines-” Mash muttered, waving a hand towards the younger clone. “You're covered in filth, try not to get it all over everything.”

“This building is still under Separatist control last time I checked. I think they’ve got bigger problems then my dirty _shebs_ (backside/rear/“ass”) sitting on their dining tables. Just saying.” Nines shrugged, catching the way Razor quickly looked down and breathed out sharply.

“Don’t encourage him.” Mash didn’t skip a beat in lightly scolding Razor’s reaction to Nines’ humor. 

Wearing full armor and helmets did inhibit one’s ability to read some body language, but they all grew up learning how to read it. He wasn’t completely there yet, but Mash was beginning to pick up on the little details that clued him into each new brother of his. He could almost identify each of them by their breathing in combat. Nines was the easiest to pick out because he always breathed in such an even and controlled manner; a sign of a sniper; the slightest inhale or exhale could mean the hit or miss of a shot. Hawk and Razor were a little harder to tell apart but Mash was getting there. 

“Let’s head up to the top floor.” Mash gestured out of the room with his Deece. “Keep it tight.”

B1 Battle Droids littered the hallway farther down where they had come from. Every floor and room below them had been cleared. All that remained of the main structure was the top floor, the communications center. Whether the other squad had cleared the East Tower was a question Mash hated leaving up in the air. More droids could pour into the lower levels that they had already cleared if the squad didn’t hold up their end. 

Making their way to the end of the hall, they came to an open spiral staircase heading up. Sure there was also a lift, but they didn’t know what they were walking into. The stairs would allow them to survey the situation better. 

It didn’t take long for the squad to make their way up to the top level and to a small hall that led to the opening of the communications center. No doors. They’d just have to move in relatively quickly to get the jump.

Mash followed behind Nines on the left side of the hallway as Hawk and Razor did the same on the right side of the hall. 

“Tactical Droid 12 o’clock.” Hawk said.

“I got it,” Nines had already raised his Deece.

“ _Pare_ (wait),” Mash held a hand out, Deece still trained forward, held by another hand despite the pressure it put on his wrist. “Keep it intact, if we get the jump we might be able to salvage information out of it.”

“...Fine.” Nines uttered but kept his rifle in position.

Evaluating the room for a moment, Mash’s HUD marked the hostiles in a moment. Fourteen, a mix of B1s and SBDs not including the Tactical Droid. 

“Razor?” Mash questioned.

“Hawk and I got the right side, you guys take left?”

“Copy.” Gesturing forward with his pointed middle and forefinger Mash quickly grasped his Deece as they moved in. 

Nines headed into the room quicker than the others, shooting down several of the droids before making a run for the Tactical droid before it could register the situation playing out.

Mash shot down what droids remained around Nines, dodging a couple of blaster bolts that came close to his body. 

Razor and Hawk went about taking down droids on the other side of the room, conscious of the blaster charge they were using as they took the droids down as quickly and efficiently as possible; a head shot or correctly positioned body shot; nothing else would do. 

Mash had barely caught Nines finishing off the Tactical droid as he finished ripping the droid’s head from its body before standing up with a laugh, tossing it in his hands twice before looking the intact head over. 

“ _Vod, gaanaylir_ (brother, catch).” Nines tossed the droid head towards Hawk who fumbled for a moment, only one hand free as the other grasped his Deece. The droid part clattered against his armor before he secured it properly in his grasp. Hawk then handed the droid head to Razor without much thought and Echo Squad’s slicer made his way towards the command console a couple meters away. 

“Nines, door.” Mash said. 

“Copy that.”

Heading to the front of the room where computer stations lined the walls, Mash lightly ran his fingers over the controls of one of the stations before stepping once to the side to where the security cam screens were. Cycling through them briefly, it took Mash a while to finally find a cam that showed the other squad. By the looks they were making their way towards the communications center and they looked calm enough so they must’ve held up their end. 

“Anything, Sarg?” Hawk asked.

“No droid activity. That squad’s on there way it looks like. Hawk-” Mash got the attention of his comrade and gestured to the console in front of him with a nod.

Hawk nodded and approached him.

“Refresh security systems and realign motion sensors in the building.”

“Sir,” Hawk gave a nod before getting to work. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Nines looked over his shoulder back into the room towards his brothers.

Mash exchanged a glance with Razor who was standing over the command console; the hub for long range communication. 

“I’ll start securing a line to Kamino,” Razor decided. “Enlighten Skipper on our progress.” He turned away and got to work on the console. 

Mash’s eyes dotted over the console where Razor began working before his eyeline fell to the floor and followed the path of destruction towards the door where Nines was. From there his eyes found several moving figures coming down the hall, the other squad. Great.

“Well well,” Sergeant 18 began, the eyeline of his helmet shifting around the room for a moment before settling on Mash. “ _Su cuy’gar_ (you’re still alive).” 

“Don’t act so surprised.” Mash muttered before gesturing them over. 

“The East Tower is clear.” The Sergeant continued to look around the room for a brief time before his gaze landed on Mash once more, giving the littlest dip of his head. Mash was quick to reciprocate the gesture in gratitude. 

“Looks like the droids were tampering with the transmitter,” Razor called over. “It’s gonna take some time to get to working.”

“Alright.” Mash’s eyes had quickly found the squad of men who had since entered the room once more. They were so familiar to him and his brothers yet so incredibly different it almost made his blood boil with just how different they were - how different they approached the mission. “In the meantime we need to secure the greater perimeter.”

“You know how long that’ll take?” The Sergeant reprimanded. 

“It needs to be done,” Mash countered before turning towards Nines. Hesitating in his words for a moment, Mash evaluated the men he had present in the room. 

“Let’s send three men, including a Corporal.” Mash wasted little time in subtly waving Nines over.

“If you’ve all got a slicer who can take over this, I’ll take a few men out.” Razor called over, now lying on his back with his head inside a compartment under the command console, helmet on the ground next to his legs. One of the other squad’s men, 87, had since traveled over to where Razor was. After a moment he looked up from where he was knelt down near Razor. 

“I can handle this, sir, if you wanna send someone out with them.” His voice was just a hair higher in pitch and the detail, as small as it was, already told Mash that the clone was younger to some degree; maybe closer in age to Hawk and Nines. 

Sergeant 18 turned towards Mash for a brief time before turning towards the two of his men still at his side. He nodded to one of them and he stepped forward.

“Alright 11… We’ll play it your way. 60 will go with’em on the scouting,” He nods to the comprade that had since stepped up.

Clenching his jaw for a brief time, Mash reluctantly thought over his next move before carefully removing his helmet. Positioning it under his arm, he relaxed his jaw before holding out a hand to the Sergeant.

The soldier was still but the slight movement of his helmet indicated he saw the outstretched hand.

“Echo Squad. They call me Mash.” It was a longshot. But it might make things easier going forward if they stepped past the formalities of numbers for names. 

The Sergeant was unusually still for his seemingly gung ho attitude prior; but the man finally looked down at the hand after an uncomfortable beat of silence before raising his hands to his helmet. Removing the piece of armor, he went to tuck the helmet under his arm before returning the gesture. 

Mash met the same set of eyes. “Trauma Squad... Baxter.” His hair was relatively unkempt, but part of that might have been due to helmet hair. It was not the standard military cut all clones were required to maintain on Kamino; it appeared as if he’d let it grow out a bit, his bangs were just teasing his brow. 

Mash shook his hand once before they each pulled away from the gesture.

Looking to his left, Mash met Razor’s eyes as his brother walked over.

“This is our Corporal’n slicer.” Mash nodded towards him.

“Razor.” He responds.

“That’s ours.” Baxter nods to his right to the clone next to him.

“Ram, Corporal and sniper” The Corporal previously known as 34 chimed in with a dip of his helmet. 

Mash gave a small nod in response to the clone.

“Nines, sniper.” Nines took the opportunity of silence to speak up.

“Hawk, demo.” Hawk waved a loose hand while continuing to fool around with the security system console on the other side of the room. 

The man behind Baxter adjusted his stance before clearing his throat. “Char, demo.”

Mash gave the man a small nod of acknowledgement before he met the eyes of the Trauma Squad sergeant.

Baxter turned and gestured towards the last man who hadn’t been named, currently with his head inside the command console where Razor had previously been.

“The kid over there’s Jack; our slicer.”

“Razor, you alright taking Nines and Char on a perimeter sweep?” 

“Just the courtyard or do we wanna start covering this in sectors?” Razor inquired, looking between the two Sergeants. 

Mash glanced at Baxter momentarily and the Trauma Squad Sergeant did the same. 

“I don’t think we need to start heading off into the jungle just yet,” Baxter’s voice was controlled and somewhat reluctant. 

“Maybe just walk the perimeter outside of the courtyard for now. Take an hour and sweep it; check each road for damage or foot traffic and call in if you see any signs of more droid patrols.” Mash continued to eye Baxter as he spoke. 

“Alright,” Razor nodded before briefly meeting the eyes of Nines and then the one identified as Char, giving them a small nod to move out. 

Mash firmly gripped Razor’s shoulder plating as his brother went to walk by before leaving with the two soldiers in tow. 

“How’s it coming, Jack?”

“Corporal Razor mentioned the power cell might’ve been tampered with.” Jack strained to look out from the small space he had his head in, hands up under the console inside the cylinder structure. 

“Well if that’s the case then we can’t get any messages out at the moment. Not even to a nearby fleet.” Baxter muttered, kneeling down next to his comrade. “May not be the time,” Baxter raised his voice enough to catch Mash’s attention. “But what exactly did your mission debrief necessitate… In detail?”

Mash watched the Sergeant for a moment and remained silent until he got to his feet to face him fully. 

“I’m not sure if we’re there yet.” Mash was calm in his statement but still firm. This could get ugly again and Razor wasn’t there to mediate. Not that he needed it… But when it came to this Sergeant, he found his fuse seemingly much shorter than normal.

“Not sure if we’re there yet.” Baxter repeats with a nod, a hand coming to the back of his head before he ran his fingers through his hair quickly. “Y’know if I didn’t know better I’d say-”

“Go on,” Mash cut him off slightly.

Baxter almost smiled before glancing around the room for a brief time. While his expression said amusement, his eyes held a certain reluctance similar to Mash’s. 

“... Let’s just contact Kamino and get this mess sorted.” 

“Good answer.” Mash gave a nod and crossed his arms; as well as he could in the armor at least while watching the Sergeant walk over to his man at the command console. 

Shaking his head, Mash headed over to Hawk.

“Any luck?” Mash braced a hand on the station Hawk was sitting at and let his eyes graze over some of the cam screens. 

“Systems should be finished with the reboot soon.” Hawk nods. “I’ve got no trips on the sensors aside from us so… I think we’re clear for now.”

Mash lifted his gaze and looked out one of the transparisteel viewports of the Tower, eyes picking up on the large vines that coated the planet surface.

“For now.”

The jungle just surrounding the Temple held an eerie silence. One that hadn’t been present when Echo Squad was on their approach from RV point Axe. The firefight had since quieted any fauna in the vicinity of the Towers. 

Making their way across the courtyard and towards the East road, Nines kicked a few crippled B1s out of his path as they walked. While the sniper was content to keep his eyes forward and on the task at hand, his eyes eventually traveled over to the Trauma Squad member with them; Char. 

Nines let himself look the clone up and down for a beat. He walked different; fought different; no doubt probably did everything a little different too. While your average civvy probably couldn’t comprehend that fact, for a clone, it was just part of the job - part of the job that the Kaminoans never taught them. It was something they just learned early in their lives, despite being manufactured to be the same, there was always that little bit of _human_ that the longnecks could never fully scrub out. Nines figured every training sergeant probably instilled some sort of mindset that reinforced their tendency to individualize themselves; he’d heard rumors about other trainers. 

The Trauma Squad member, like the rest of his squad, had green-like color accents on his white armor. While there was no way in hell that the other squad could tell due to the mud they were still covered in, Echo Squad’s color was red; their armor was accented in the red to orange colors. 

Nines’ eyes caught the couple of stairs ahead that went down a foot before smoothing out into the road heading into the Jungle; the place where one of Trauma Squad had thrown a grenade was prominent in the blasted off pieces of stair that littered the vicinity.

“You’re demo right?” Nines gestured down to the rubble with the barrel of his Deece. “This you?” He laughed. 

The Trauma Squad member came to a stop and slowly looked towards Nines, taking a beat to process the question.

“Was the Sarg,” Char finally responded. He had a somewhat deeper voice, more so than Mash or Baxter too. 

“Guy’s not one for the rulebook is he?” Nines raised an eyebrow from under his helmet before maneuvering down what intact stairs were left. 

“Least he didn’t have us rolling in _osik_ ,” The man chuckled and Nines felt annoyance prickle his skin.

“First off its mud. We were running recon and needed to take precautions. Second, we were following a strict outline from the Jedi… They wanted the location taken quickly and quietly to avoid making a scene; I imagine they didn’t want their meditation-force-Temple lookin like a battleground when we were done.” He gestures back to the blown up set of stairs that were getting further away as they continued down the road, checking for any droid activity. 

“...Smells like _osik_.” Char stated. 

Nines clenched his jaw and caught the way Razor gave him the littlest shake of his helmet. 

_Don’t._

Nines let silence fall, although it took every ounce of self control he had left not to start picking this guy apart. It was in his nature to just… Wind people up. This guy was winding him up and was looking like he wasn’t even giving it his full attention. 

Glancing down at himself for the briefest second he caught the sight of the thick layer of mud still caked to his armor… It did smell terrible.... But it _was_ mud…. Hopefully.

The soldiers continued down the quiet path that led deeper into the jungle until they reached the end of the architectural road that ended at some stairs and a small dirt path, not even a road, that continued into the wilderness.

“Well that was eventful.” Nines muttered before turning to head back in the other direction.

They still had the north and south roads to walk. They’d already swept the west road now opposite their position. “Remind me again why they needed _us_ for this job. This is infantry level work.”

“Says the talking _osik_ pile.” Char surmised, following the sniper with his gaze as he went to leave. 

“ _Wayii- copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?_ (Good grief- are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?)” Nines had whipped around, coming relatively face to face or- helmet to helmet with the Trauma Squad member.

“Alright, easy you two!” Razor interrupted the two, putting a hand on each of their shoulders before pushing them apart. “Same team.”

Char glanced towards Razor for a brief time before bowing his head in a small nod. Turning towards Nines he eyed the sniper for a brief time before stepping past him to continue their patrol back to the Temple. 

Nines muttered once more under his breath before meeting the gaze of the Corporal.

“You may know how to wind people up, but you make it relatively easy for others to do the same to you, _vod_.” Razor chuckled before patting his brother’s shoulder plating. 

Nines rolled his eyes before walking alongside his older brother back down the road to continue their sweep. 

“How about- now?” Jack grunted, half of his armored body cramped into the small compartment under the command console. 

“Nothing,” Baxter responded, staring at the dark holotable. 

Mash watched the two quietly while his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression as blank as possible before he exchanged the smallest glance with Hawk and Ram who was standing a meter or two from them. 

A string of curses in Mando’a left the clone before the clattering of metal parts followed. The holotable flickered to life moments later.

“Wait that did it,” Baxter held a hand down to the opening where Jack was.

“You serious? The power cell isn’t even in place I’m holding it-”

“Just don’t move.” Baxter cut him off before going about the controls.

Mash took a couple of steps forward and began putting in a secure channel code. 

“I’ll contact our advisor,” Mash explained, fingers working quickly along the bottoms of the console.

Baxter seemed to stall in his movements as the Echo Squad Sergeant stepped up and he retracted his hands from the console. “You do that,” The Trauma Squad Sergeant moved back slowly before crossing his own arms. 

Mash slowed his actions as he processed the dramatic response from the soldier before resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Finishing the code, Mash activated the transmitter and stood up straight, watching as the holotable, now illuminated, hummed to life. 

It seemed much longer, but a few seconds later a hologramic figure emerged from the table and Mash was quick to recognize him.

“ _Sergeant, how is your assignment going?_ ” Skipper questioned, hands loosely on his armor belt.

It was a relief to see their Clone Advisor, but Mash found the words leaving his mouth to be far from that thought that grazed his mind.

“Temple’s been retaken, but sir, would you mind explaining to me what the hell high command is playing at?” Mash leaned forward on the console, hands on either side of the controls.

“ _...Excuse me, Sergeant?_ ” Mash rarely ever talked to a superior with such an aggressive tone. 

“Let me,” Baxter less than gently shoved Mash out of the way before taking his spot in front of the hologram. “What he means to ask is what high command’s been doing with their thumbs up their shebs while we trip over our own feet down here trying to recapture a Jedi timeshare.”

“ _Wayii._ ” Mash roughly rubbed a hand over his shaved head before cursing. “Show a little decorum,” Mash seethed.

“ _Me_ show decorum?” Baxter turned towards the Echo Squad leader, a hand to his armored chest. 

“ _Alright, settle down!_ ” Skipper almost had to yell to get the attention of the two Sergeants before they both finally directed their attention to him. “ _Mash, what’s the state of the Temple? Enemy activity?_ ”

“We’ve secured the position, sir.” Mash said. “We eliminated a small Separatist force holding the location; wasn’t nearly enough to hold it indefinitely; most likely just a temporary force to hold the grounds.”

“ _They may send reinforcements then. Be on guard._ ” Skipper warned.

Mash gave a nod before glancing around at the others temporarily. “When will the Jedi be arriving?” 

His question was followed by silence, and Baxter was the first to react as he adjusted his stance and took a step forward.

“Well?”

“ _...The Jedi don’t have a replacement lined up yet._ ” Not only did his reluctance to respond clue them in, but the hesitation in his voice as well. 

“Excuse me?” Baxter slowly blinked in response, posture twitching.

“Meaning?” Mash questioned.

“ _Meaning,_ ” Skippered sighed lightly. “ _You all aren’t going anywhere until they send a Jedi._ ”

Baxter, being the first to react again, kicked the command console, causing the hologram to flicker.

“Hey!” Jack called from under the console. 

“You gotta be-” A string of curses in mando’a followed Baxter’s proclamation as he took a couple steps away from the console. 

“Take it easy,” Mash put a hand up.

Returning to the console, Baxter rests both hands on the rim.

“I need to talk to our advisor. He’ll get us out of here.” Baxter made clear.

“ _Sergeant, your advisor has been pulled for an assignment, so Trauma is officially under my jurisdiction until he returns._ ”

The man was fuming, but he remained quiet, much to Mash’s surprise. 

“ _You both are to hold the location and report back any Separatist activity or attempts to retake the Temple. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days._ ” Skipper eased, holding out a hand as he spoke. “ _The Temple has a storage facility with foodstuffs and rations to keep you comfortable if you all are stuck longer than your dry ration packs will allow._ ”

“We better not be,” Baxter grumbled under his breath, glancing towards Ram.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, sir.” Mash reassured the Advisor. “We’ll keep the Temple secure.”

“ _I’ll contact you when I have word on the Jedi._ ” Skipper gives them a final nod before the hologram disappears and it falls quiet.

“...Can I get up now?” Jack grunted, a foot kicking slightly as the man was still on his back halfway under the console. 

“Alright,” Mash mumbles quietly, meeting Hawk’s eyes before glancing towards Baxter as the man had since began pacing around slowly. “Well-”

“ _Jetiise_ (jedi; plural),” Baxter uttered under his breath before shaking his head. 

“Hey,” Mash’s tone lowered in a warning manner. The man seemed quick to want to bash on any of the higher ups.

“It’ll only be for a few days.” Ram spoke up, meeting Mash’s gaze for a brief moment before looking towards his Sergeant. 

Walking over to the computer stations lining the far wall, Mash stepped past Baxter to grab his helmet and put it on.

A couple careful blinks later, he activated their secure comm channel.

“Razor? How’s the patrol going?” Mash spoke up, eyeline shifting to the left as Jack crawled out from under the commander console and put a hand through his hair with a mumble. 

The comms crackled briefly before he got a response.

“ _All qui… out here, Mash. No sign u-... oid traffic around the T… ple yet. We’re almost done ch... south road th… be heading back._ ”

“Transmission was fuzzy but I understand. Let me know if anything changes,” Mash responded.

“ _Yes sir. Any news?_ ”

Mash clenched his jaw and thought it over for a moment before shaking his head.

“Long story short- we’re stuck here together until the Jedi can send someone. Could be a few days.”

“ _Did he j… ays!?_ ”

That was Nines alright.

“ _I see,_ ” Razor responded. “ _Brief us when w…. back._ ”

“Will do,” Mash finished the transmission before taking his helmet off with a sigh. 

“Just great.” Nines growled under his breath, his grasp on his Deece tightening and loosening as he fidgeted. “Stuck with crack squad for-”

“Who’re you calling a crack squad, mate?” Char cut him off. “We’re not the squad looking like they just crawled out of a swamp.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure they find your body _at the bottom_ a swamp, _mate_.” Nines barked back, having turned on his heel to stop Char in his tracks.

“ _Gev!_ Take it down!” Razor ordered, shouldering Nines to get his younger comrade to back off. “Both of you,” Razor turned a look on Char before gesturing them both forward. “Squabbling like Infantry cadets for galaxy’s sake-” He cursed before walking ahead of both of them. 

Nines begrudgingly followed, but not before exchanging a small glance with Char before they began heading back to the Temple. 

The walk back was quiet and by the time they’d gotten up to the communications center, the atmosphere had leveled out. 

“The perimeter is clear.” Razor announced, removing his helmet as he entered the communications room. 

Mash turned and met the eyes of his Corporal with a nod.

“Seppies won’t stay quiet for long,” Baxter chimed in, leaning against the command console with his armed crossed, expression almost belligerent as he looked back down at the ground with a scowl. “They’ll send reinforcements and soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Mash agreed, hands resting on his armor belt. “First things first, we need to start organizing patrols; keep an eye on local air traffic an-”

“Who- put you in charge exactly?” Baxter questioned, his expression revealing genuine confusion but also fatigue. 

Mash clenched his jaw and breathed out quietly through his nose before shooting Razor the smallest look. 

“It’ll only be a couple days, I’m sure we can balance leadership.” Ram proposed, sitting at one of the chairs at the computer stations at the opposite side of the room.

Baxter’s body jolted as if he was trying to prevent a scoff before he nodded.

“Better only be a couple days.”

**ONE WEEK LATER…**

Nines clenched his jaw, staring down towards his hands before his gaze lifted and he met Char’s eyes. The Trauma Squad member stared back at him, expression hardly set but relatively at ease despite the fact. 

Tapping his finger lightly, Nines swallowed before he finally nodded.

“I’ll raise you three Nuna jerky strips.” Nines finally stated before tossing the packaged meat into the center of the table.

“I’ll match that, _vod_.” Char nodded before grabbing some packaged jerky strips from the backpack next to his feet, tossing them into their pot where other small foods and rations resided. 

From the other side of the communications center, Ram watched the two playing cards with a tightly knit brow.

“I don’t get it,” Ram finally muttered, giving a shake of his head. 

“What?” Razor questioned while chewing on a ration stick, eyes on the SOP manual up on the datapad balanced on his propped up leg. 

“They’ll be at each other's throats night and day- but as soon as the Sabacc cards come out they turn more civil than _jetiise_.”

Razor let a hard breath out through his nose in amusement before shrugging lightly, using a knuckle to scroll down on the datapad. 

Those two were always going at each other, but over the past several days they’d each discovered their love of the card game, Sabacc. They’d started developing an awkward love/hate relationship with the game at the center. 

“As long as they’re quiet,”

The week had passed by slowly. Razor and Ram were getting along alright during the time, however Mash and Baxter were still at opposite ends of a spectrum. They butted heads but a brotherly atmosphere was starting to settle in. 

Turning in his chair, Ram faces the computer station and quickly goes about cycling through the comm channels, listening for any chatter that might clue them into a hostile force. Alongside that chore was looking for any Separatist activity on the air traffic scanners. So far they’d had nothing all week.

The beeping of one of the air traffic scanners causes both Ram and Razor to look up from their distractions. Ram is the first to swing around in his chair and lean over to the neighboring computer station. 

Razor got up from his chair and walked over.

“Got something?” He questioned.

Ram evaluated the reading before narrowing the scanner range.

“I’ve got a ship entering the atmosphere, around 50 klicks out.” Ram responded, brow knit as he watched the screen on the station plot a hypothetical course for the ship that was approaching. “Computer's plotting its course; it looks like they’re heading for us.” Ram muttered before getting to his feet. Cycling through the channels for a moment, Ram found the only other active one and pressed one of the buttons on the panel to unmute the transmission.

“Incoming ship, you are entering restricted Republic Military airspace,”

Razor eyed the image on the screen that estimated the ship’s trajectory as Ram continued to recite one of the standard messages from the SOPs manual.

“Do you copy?” Ram waited but only static came through on the comms. 

“I repeat, incoming ship, you have entered restricted Republic Military airspace-”

“They’re coming in way too fast.” Razor muttered, eyeing the readings on the computer screen built into the station. “Reads are coming through… Ships heavily damaged.”

“Specs?” Ram inquired. 

“Hull integrity is at critical levels, heat spikes all over the ship, scanner’s reading engine failure. That ship’s not being piloted, it’s going down.”

“What’s the estimated crash path?” Ram asked, finger hovering over the comm button, allowing the static to come through. 

Going about the controls on the station, Razor expanded the aerial map of the surrounding area and the computer AI marked an estimated crash zone. 

At seeing the area, Razor leaned in further, brow knitting tightly. 

“Something wrong?” Ram questions.

“That’s just near RV point Axe… Aren’t they patrolling that area?” Razor questioned, turning to the fellow Corporal.

At processing his comrade’s words, Ram quickly abandoned the comm frequency he was using to contact the unknown ship and set the frequency to their squad comm channel.

“Sergeants we’ve got a ship coming in with a projected crash zone in your area… Baxter? Sergeant Mash?” 

Razor watched the fellow soldier quietly before glancing to the side seeing Nines and Char had since approached, similarly reflected expressions of concern. 

“ _Haar'chak_ , I can’t get anything through,” Ram swore before shaking his head; meeting Razor’s eyes. “Wanna head out?”

In the past few days, they’d discovered how communications were difficult on the planet. If a party was out in the jungle, comms were always very sensitive. They knew it would complicate matters if the Separatists organized an attempt to retake the Temple. 

“... Yeah, let’s go.” Razor agreed before quickly going to grab his helmet. “You two hold down here,” Razor looked to both Nines and Char. 

“Let us know if you need any help.” Nines nodded before shrugging. “... Well I guess you won’t be able to so-... If it looks bad from here we’ll- consider coming to help.”

“Good to know,” Ram smirked before throwing his helmet on. 

Nodding to the other Corporal, they both began running for the hall. 

There had been a short rain shower earlier in the morning. The ground was soft and their armored boots sunk into the soil as they treaded through the jungle. 

Baxter was walking a few yards ahead with Jack at his side, and Mash followed closely behind with Hawk. 

The Trauma squad members were chatting lightly amongst themselves and Mash and Hawk chatted on and off.

They had fallen into a relatively simple routine over the past few days. They’d hit bumps now and again, but everyone usually did their best to stay out of each other’s way. 

The ease of the atmosphere around them came to a screeching halt however, when the crackling of sticks sounds off to their 9 o’clock. 

Baxter is the first to ready his rifle before anyone else had time to process the sound disruption. They may not have been a squad, but they knew how to make it work, and everyone worked off of each other in accordance with the developments around them.

All of them trained on an assortment of foliage several meters away, more rustling follows before small chirp-like noises emit from the bushes.

It was a familiar sound. One of the native fauna from the planet, a small reptilian species. However the familiarity didn’t stop Baxter from watching the position from which the sound radiated with a raised weapon. 

Jack had his weapon raised hesitantly as well, although Sergeant Mash’s lack of reaction caused him to second guess his own. They hadn’t seen any action in weeks. It was obvious Sergeant Baxter was getting an itchy trigger finger to shoot something. 

“S’nothing, brother.” Mash mumbled, rifle loosely held in front of him.

Baxter rolled his eyes from under his helmet and muttered under his breath before continuing on their patrol.

“Jedi are wasting Special Forces; as if Geonosis wasn’t enough of a wake up call for em,” Baxter said, his pace picking up. 

Mash tries not to roll his shoulders in an effort to ease the prickle of uneasiness he got from Baxter’s comment. How had this clone survived this long without getting himself terminated. 

“C’mon, _vod_ ,” Mash mumbled, knowing Baxter would understand his comment. 

In training, they were taught that Jedi leadership was invaluable. However at the Battle of Geonosis, the clone army was in for a somewhat rude awakening at just how unprepared the Jedi seemed to be in leading the army. Special Forces lost half of their numbers, and strategically, the Battle was a mess. Many clones came out of their first battle confused, even angered, but still unwaveringly loyal to the Jedi… well most of them did. Baxter made Mash rethink that part. 

“Maybe the next assignment will have us mopping floors in the Jedi Temple, who knows you gotta remain optimistic.” Baxter called over his shoulder. 

Mash just shook his head and exchanged a small glance with Hawk. 

Crackling over the comms caused Mash to slow his pace, a hand raising subconsciously towards his helmet. 

“Razor? That you?” Mash spoke up.

“ _We-.... ip comi… cra… yo-..._ ”

“Damn it,” Mash muttered before using his knuckles to knock the side of his helmet a couple of times. “Are you getting anything clear Baxter?” 

“No,” The Trauma Sergeant grumbled, eyeline on the ground as he tried to listen to the gargled transmission. “Come on boys, spit it out.”

“ _Repe… shi… proj… crash…_ ” 

Mash shook his head lightly as he tried to listen only to start hearing a roar of a ship in the background of the transmission.

“...You hear that?” Mash turned towards Hawk who nodded.

“Hey Max,” Baxter suddenly spoke up.

The Sergeant’s expression fell from under his helmet. “It’s Mash,” He grumbled before turning around to look at the Sergeant.

He was looking up through the vine canopy. 

Mash’s brow knit in response to seeing the Sergeant before he followed the man’s eyeline to the sky, eyes widening at the sight.

“Uh… That doesn’t look good.” Jack stated, also finding the ship that was hurtling down towards them in a ball of fire. 

“ **GO GO GO!** ” Mash yelled, waving the men off. They began running towards the ship and managed to avoid most of the debris coming off of the craft as it crashed through the vine canopy and barreled into the mud around forty yards away. 

Half of the men had dived for cover from broken pieces of the ship that had rained down.

“Everyone alright?” Mash called out, the question leaving his mouth before he could register his own state.

“Fine here sir,”

“All good.”

Mash quickly got to his feet, seeing Baxter had already done the same.

“Not what I was expecting when I hoped for some action but I won’t complain,” The Trauma Sergeant didn’t waste any time, and Mash wasn’t going to slow him down as they quickly began making their way towards the wreckage. “Wanna bet they were trying to warn us?” Baxter laughed, referring to the rest of their group at the Temple.

Mash nodded to the side in agreement, feeling Hawk come up on his right as they followed the canyoned trail the ship had left in its wake.

It was a fairly large craft, a freighter by the look of what was left. 

A small explosion off of one of the dislodged engines causes the team to jump back a step. 

Baxter suddenly patted Mash had on the back before going closer to the wreck.

“We’ll cover the cockpit area,” He practically threw the comment over his shoulder before jogging off with Jack close behind him.

“But- I- Erm,” Mash shook his head and quieted his objection before it could pass through his lips. 

“Let’s cover the back of the ship,” Mash responded, looking towards his comrade. “Looks like the ship’s main structure is still relatively intact. We might be able to enter through the cargo bay.”

Hawk acknowledged his Sergeant with a nod before going to follow the clone. Both keep a close eye on the wreckage as they approach. Parts of the hull were missing, revealing little hints of darkness within the craft. There could still be lifeforms on board. 

Hawk let his eyes run along the side of the crashed ship as they made their way closer. Most of the ship wasn’t ablaze, the engines had been, but they’d broken off the main craft when it struck the ground. 

Giving the side of the ship another once over, Hawk cleared his throat. “My HUD isn’t recognizing this freighter, sir.”

“It isn’t Republic, keep your eyes open.” Mash responded, rifle raised. 

They get to the back of the ship and the ramp is dislodged from the freighter. Giving the dark opening a quick once over, Mash nodded to Hawk and they began making their way inside. 

Cargo boxes and cages of supplies littered the space. Despite the wreckage everywhere, Mash was quick to spot an outlying object.

“10 o’clock,” Mash nodded to the corpse off to the left as they headed further into the ship. 

Hawk noted the body, as well as another farther away against the wall and followed the Sergeant. Their HUDs could pick up life signs and so far, there weren’t any.

“Hey Mack!” Baxter called out suddenly. “We’ve got some dead lizards up here!” Baxter appears from an elevated platform up the wall at the back of the cargo bay that they had been heading towards. There was most likely a door to the cockpit and a ladder somewhere. 

Mash shook his head and looked up, noting the ship was relatively small now, from what was remaining intact; the ship was now clear. 

“It’s Mash.” The Echo squad Sergeant responded under his breath, lowering his rifle in front of him 

“Trandoshans?” Hawk inquired, craning his neck to look up to where Baxter and Jack were.

“Lizards. Did I stutter, kid?” Baxter responded.

“Yeah Hawk, Trandoshans,” The remnants of a chuckle sounded through Jack’s helmet as he softened Baxter’s sarcastic response. 

Both jumped down into the cargo area and Baxter playfully knocked Hawk’s shoulder plating with his knuckles. 

A sudden shudder of cargo crates in the back right corner of the ship’s cargo bay causes the soldiers to jump into action. Mash and Hawk have their weapons trained on the origin of where the sound originated and Baxter and Jack did the same. The first sign of a potential hostile in a week. It was safe to say they were anticipating a threat.

Taking a couple steps closer, Baxter kept his rifle trained at the corner of the damaged ship’s bay before hand signaling to the others.

Mash, Hawk and Jack all gave nods in response before Baxter spoke up.

“Come out!” Voice alone, Baxter’s ranged on the lower end of what was common for clones; coupled with the helmet filtering his voice, he sounded even more menacing.

When nothing followed the demand, Baxter knocked the crates with a calculated kick of his armored leg, jostling them a good bit but not moving them enough to reveal the hostile.

“ _NOW!_ ”

Changing the settings on his HUD, Mash changed his helmet display to thermal and after a couple seconds, his brow knit together at the readings coming from behind the crates.

“Bax-”

“Am I speaking Huttese? Get out here you di-”

“Take it easy, Baxter!” Mash finally snapped, jabbing the other Sergeant with his armored elbow before lowering his weapon.

“ _Er you crazy?_ ” Baxter growled, helmeted gaze whipping around to the other Sergeant. 

“Alright you,” Mash took a couple of steps closer, “C’mon out,” Voice still significantly firm, but lower in volume to Baxter’s, Mash waited for some kind of response to the changed approach. 

The silence that followed doesn’t ease Baxter’s caution as he kept his rifle trained on the crates before eyes peek over one of the boxes.

“Yeah you- out.” Mash muttered pointing to the ground in front of his feet with his forefinger, rifle still held up in one hand trained ahead.

A small being made their way out from behind the crates and Hawk slowly lowered his rifle; Jack followed the action not far behind. 

Taking a moment to process the lifeform, Baxter felt his shoulders fall. “Too bad,” Baxter finally muttered. “Was looking for an excuse to unload on somethin,” Baxter’s eyes trail over the young girl now standing in front of him with slight disappointment. 

“Sir,” Jack breathed out a laugh.

“Told you Jay,” Baxter glanced back towards his slicer, “I got more of that sociopathic blood in my system than the others.” 

Mash looked over the being quietly. She was young, probably an early adolescent; dirty and emaciated. His HUD was picking up on an accelerated heart rate.

“Sir,”

Mash turned and looked over his shoulder to see his Corporal, Razor, along with Trauma Squad Corporal, Ram. 

“We went ahead and did an extra sweep of the crash site perimeter. Any life in he- Oh,” Razor caught sight of the small being that barely met the soldiers chest plates in height.

“Affirmative,” Hawk shrugged lightly, rifle at ease in front of him before he looked back down to the girl who had taken a few steps back towards the crates she’d been hiding behind.

“So we’ve got no other survivors,” Baxter stated, processing the fact before nodding. 

“The ship didn’t come up on my HU-”

“Didn’t on ours either,” Baxter cut Razor off as he looked over the torn up ship around them. 

“I’ll begin scanning the haul,” Ram offered before leaving the damaged cargo bay.

Mash looked around further before turning his eyes to Baxter as he moved out of his peripheral.

“A miracle she survived this,” The Sergeant of Trauma Squad grunted while evaluating the ship’s seemingly nonexistent roof before turning his eyes to the child. “You’re lucky, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you alive? Seriously if you're reading this you get claps... *claps*  
> Now you're either pissed and disappointed that you just wasted 30 minutes or your life ..... or possibly interested in seeing the next chapter? I hope to publish it soon. :) Chapters are never that long btw, usually around 5k there was just A LOT to unpack in this chapter (it was like a combination of the prologue and first chapter) so I'm sorry on that front.  
> Comments are appreciated, I like talking with you guys and seeing what you think :) #justalittlelonely


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold- the next chapter! :) It's shorter than the last one so I hope that's more acceptable. For future reference, my OC Arwen Corcer's name is pronounced [ARE-when COURSE-er]. Also! My tumblr has visuals and arts for this story, info is in my bio regarding blog names if you're interested!

**Present Day…**

The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the Coruscant skyline. Colors ranging from orange to purple were splashed behind the whisked clouds. The cityscape shadowed much of the surface, making it seem much darker than it had been minutes prior.

Knelt on the ledge of one of the complex buildings, Arwen Corcer cradled an adventurer slugthrower rifle close to her body, cheek nestled over the stock as she stared through the scope, down the barrel.

 _Bum bum…. Bum bum…. Bum bum._ It was prevalent in her mind; the one thing she could hear. Breath steady, and both eyes open, she kept her dominant eye trained through the scope at the target. It was the only thing that could take precedence over the sound of her heart beating slowly, calculatedly.

Just over a mile away, the target stood on the balcony of a large complex with other party guests attending a fundraiser. Since the outbreak of the war between the Galactic Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems, he'd been finding ways to make money off of both sides, all of which were illegal, helping to settle her conscience about the job.

Arwen didn't know the motive behind the client who had hired her to eliminate the individual, but from what dirt she'd been able to turn up on the target, they had their fair share of skeletons in the closet- not including their double dealings with both the Republic and the CIS. Whatever the motive was- Arwen didn't have any desire to know; it wasn't her business, and it was also the job not to ask questions. That she learned early on.

The target had a female Twi'lek on his arm. She was relatively close; too close. Arwen would need to wait for a proper window.

The balcony was a large half circle that acted as a roof to half of the tower it rested upon; the outer wall of the half-circle was lined with finely arranged floral bushes and other organic material that contrasted starkly with the harsh greys of the city. Seating also scattered the sides of the balcony. Twenty-four individuals resided on the balcony, including the target who was talking with multiple associates.

Finally the moment came, and the female left the target to walk inside. There was an opening.

Allowing her gloved fingers to make a minuscule adjustment on the barrel of her rifle, Arwen kept her breath steady, gaze locked on the target.

 _Bum bum…. Bum bum…. Bum bum_.

Her finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger.

 _Bum bum_.

She breathed in.

 _Bum bum_.

Then out.

 _Bum bum_.

She went to squeeze the trigger when a flash of blinding light overrode her senses.

" _Haar'chak!_ " Arwen cursed and lowered the rifle, squinted eyes raised towards the sky to see a Republic transport coming to a stationary hover around twenty-five yards above her.

Spot lights flashed around her as individuals in the transport angled them towards her. Voices echoed over the roar of the transport. Republic Police.

Raising her rifle again, Arwen quickly found the target once more.

_Identify. Breathe in. Breathe out. Squeeze._

The recoil of the rifle doubling back into her shoulder coupled with the force of the rifle pushing what air that was left from her lungs was familiar, oddly comforting, as she resettled the rifle, watching through the scope as the target was knocked to the ground with the force of the slug.

Not a blaster bolt. Arwen would take a good blaster any day, but using old fashioned solid rounds was always a sure way to handle a job. Took authorities longer to get leads and she could make the ammunition herself if she so desired.

Quickly flipping the safety on the weapon, Arwen swings the rifle over her body, securing the safety strap to her armor plate before taking off across the roof of the complex. Disappearing into the maze of air conditioning and ventilation units and other structures, Arwen pulled the fabric hanging around her shoulders up, securing it over her nose before pulling the hood over her head.

The authorities yelled as they repelled down onto the rooftop and began a chase.

Dodging ventilation units and other cubic structures that littered the rooftop of the tower, Arwen came face to face with several GU-series Police Droids.

"Halt," One held up an arm towards her, SS-410 pistol in hand. "You are under arrest."

There were too many here to have happened to notice her presence. She had been set up.

Dodging the fire of one of them, she lunged forward and pushed them over before continuing through the maze of structures. She just had to get to the opposite end of the complex. Those droids would have speeders; she'd take one and dump it near one of the vents; they'd suspect she's gone into the lower levels.

Rounding a large unit, Arwen came to a screeching halt at the overwhelmingly bright colored individual.

"Stop!" A standard Republic clone trooper fitted in the signature bright white armor pointed his blaster at her. He looked rather taken off guard.

Arwen, still controlling her breathing, allowed her jaw to briefly clench before her ears perked and she heard the Police droids and her lips parted. Her eyes jumped to the side for a split second before she felt her eyebrows twitch.

"Don't move." He ordered, going to step closer to her.

She remained still as he approached, waiting for her opportunity before slapping his blaster away. She was quick to emobilize him; having grabbed his forearm she turned and put her back to his chest before throwing the trooper over her shoulder.

He let out a cry of surprise before grunting in pain as he crumpled to the ground. Arwen's pistol was already pointed down at him, his head at her feet. His helmet was already facing her but he seemed to flinch moments later; an indication he'd now noticed his predicament. He went to unsteadily raise his hands with hesitation.

Breathing now uneven and not controlled, Arwen stared down at the trooper. Mouth turning dry, she swallowed before her head shot up.

They were coming.

Shooting the briefest look back down at the trooper whose head was at her feet, she quickly holstered her pistol and ran for one of the speeders hovering off the building ledge. As she jumped onto one, droids and other Troopers came flooding towards her. Cranking the throttle, she took off across the Coruscant skyline.

After dumping the Police speeder near one of the vents, Arwen returned to the establishment owned by her client called Lanter's Tavern. It was obvious she'd been set up; an arrangement made most likely so he wouldn't have to pay her. It wasn't a surprise, but needless to say, she would have preferred this transaction to have gone smoothly.

Walking across the first level of the bar, Arwen made her way towards the back hall. The client owned this bar, however it was more a front; operated by employees to keep authorities off of his scent.

Arwen swallowed, face still clothed in her dark grey, ragged hood, and cloth piece over her nose. The look was drawing eyes, but as soon as she made eye contact with any of them, they'd look away rather quickly. She wasn't dressed like a civvy. Armored chest plate, shoulder, knee, and torso plating, rifle slung over her shoulder, blaster on her side and vibroblade attached to her boot- she _looked_ like a gun for hire.

Her eyes snapped to the side when yelling flooded the room, and she quickly spotted a group of men cheering at one of the screenprojectors above the bar. This wasn't one of the rowdier bars, but when certain pod races or other sporting events came on, it drew in crowds of the like.

One would assume it was just your average evening on Coruscant. Many of the people residing on the planet had essentially no idea just how the war was currently strangling the galaxy. Sure Coruscant had its own problems, but most of these people didn't _know_. They were content to be here, ignorant to the trillions of others surrounded by war throughout the galaxy.

It was… a lonely feeling; being in the know in some manner while being surrounded by those with no knowledge of the conflict that had been at the center of her life until recently.

Continuing through the crowds to the other side of the large area, she was able to pass people virtually unnoticed until she began heading down the back hall. Graffiti was sparse but painted the walls here and there. It was a relatively clean establishment, just enough to blend with the top level of Coruscant at least.

As she walked down the dimly lit corridor, out of sight from others she pulled the hood off of her head and lowered the cloth covering her face. Turning the corner, she spotted a human male guard at the door. Upon seeing her, his eyes widened as he went to scramble for his blaster, currently holstered.

By the time Arwen was in front of him and he had the blaster pointed, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him forwards with enough force to cause his face to collide with her shoulder plate with a clang. He sputtered before dropping to the floor.

Stepping over the body, Arwen pushed the control on the wall to open the door. As soon as it opened, her eyes met the barrels of multiple blasters pointed in her direction. She eased to a stop, picking out the multiple individuals preventing her from entering before she heard the muttering of words coming from further inside the room.

"Let her in, let her in." It was a familiar voice, the client.

Arwen waited for the hired protection of the client to ease their weapons. Her own posture was relatively relaxed, however at a moment's notice she could have her blaster in hand.

The individuals finally began stepping away, and Arwen waited until she had enough room before entering the converted office space, one calculated step after another. Her gaze dotted from one person to the next; a few Weequays -two male and one female- one male Nikto, one male human, and two Siniteens - male and female. All of them were armed.

"Well, I admit I didn't expect to see you again. Alive at least, after taking that job."

Arwen turned her attention to the individual sitting at a desk in the corner, a datapad now abandoned in front of him sitting on the desk.

"No thanks to you," Arwen countered, hand resting over her belt as she met the eyes of the client.

"You're lucky, mercenary." The Belosar considered her for a moment, eyes wandering over her as if he was looking for a sign of wear or evidence that his attempt to get rid of her wasn't a complete waste. A couple beats of silence followed before he gave a decided hum and stood from his seat. Even at a stand, he was small, only five feet, maybe a couple inches more; his skin was almost a sickly grey, common for Belosars, his antennapalps protruded from his dark locks.

A chuckle left his lips as he walked around his desk and past her, towards the right side of the room.

"You do drive a hard bargain for your services," He tsked, waving a finger before going towards a large safe built into the wall.

"Well, you aren't the first client to attempt to sell me out, Gerdon." Arwen responded, notes of amusement on her tongue as she followed the Belosar with her eyes.

"I assume if you are here, and that you haven't started shooting, that you have finished the job, yes?" The antennapalps atop his head twitched as he turned to look at her from around the safe door, which stood taller than him.

Belosars' antennapalps gave them the ability to detect drastic emotional changes around them as well as immediate danger, so he already knew she wasn't here to do him harm.

"You'd assume correct." Arwen found her hands gripping her belt buckle as the client finally walked over with a small satchel that she assumed was full of credits. It better be at least.

He held it out and she went to grasp the strap of the satchel, noticing almost immediately how he wasn't planning on letting go of the item.

Her gaze remained on his as she searched his expression, careful not to give anything away in her own as she waited.

She could feel the presence of the protection detail around her. They were on edge, and by what Arwen could tell, hadn't received previous orders on how to handle the situation- meaning they were reacting off of whatever Gerdon was doing as each second passed.

If it was one thing she hadn't been raised to deal with- it was these types of people. Not that she struggled; she knew how to navigate the life, but she'd experienced plenty of instances of learning on the go. So far not one client had questioned her validity as a mercenary or bounty hunter. Only a few had questioned her as they hadn't seen her in the business prior, however it was an easy thing to explain. Big galaxy.

Sometimes it made her rethink just how good she was at the life… being a criminal. She'd received the best training in the galaxy and this is how she was using it… Then it would come back - why she was in this situation to begin with and how she'd come into the life.

Her eyes flicked towards some of the armed individuals before returning to Gerdon.

"I recall we discussed proof of your success being displayed upon your return?" He tried, spare hand drumming lightly on the satchel, the other gripping the other end of the strap.

"That was before you sold me out to the Republic." Arwen stepped closer, causing a few of the surrounding hired guns to pull their weapons slowly. "You'll see it on the Holonet News first light; given the Republic will allow the word to spread."

The Galactic Republic had taken over the HoloNet News, or just HNN, shortly after the war broke out. Everything ran through them, as to ensure the CIS wasn't aided in any potentially sensitive information. Despite that effort, there was a Separatist presence on Coruscant - hell on every Republic system - besides Kamino possibly; there were terrorist cells everywhere, and information was always being leaked. Arwen doubted things had changed at all since she… left.

"Either way, word'll get to you." Her voice was low and sharp as she maintained steady eye contact with the man, the height difference between them not going unnoticed as the Belosar shifted where he stood. She easily stood at around 5 feet, 9 inches and her footwear added an extra inch in the sole. This Belosar's eyes barely met the top of her chest plate.

Gerdon considered her momentarily, his jaw tightens briefly before his lips pull back and he grins. Chuckling he released the satchel and pushed it into her grasp before patting the hand she'd been holding the strap with.

"Yes yes of course, it is only fair I suppose." He appeared almost distracted as he headed back to his desk, shifting things on the tabletop surface as he went. "It is the pay we discussed. I threw a little extra in for your trouble."

"How thoughtful." Arwen couldn't help the deadpan tone that leaked through her words.

"It was a pleasure," The Belosar clasped his hands together, resting them on his desk once he had taken a seat. The silence that followed was a clear indication that she was excused.

Arwen watched him for a moment, using her peripheral vision to keep an eye on the hired protection in the room before bowing her head a fraction in response.

Satchel in her grasp, she went to leave, meeting the eyes of one of the Weequays before heading out of the office. She stepped over the still unconscious guard on the ground and continued down the hallway back towards the bar.

The breath that slipped out through her lips caused her stomach to tighten a fraction as she closed her eyes momentarily.

That was too close. If she didn't have to worry about the heat from the authorities, she'd probably have dealt with that piece of rankweed Belosar; the only one of his kind she had met who wasn't in the Death Stick trade. Gerdon was something of a coward, but could weasel his way out of a lot of problems. She'd been warned he might pull a stunt like that, but it still caught her off guard when it happened. Thankfully she was able to get away without hurting anyone.

Face now exposed, Arwen made a beeline for one of the more secluded bar counters at the back of the room where multiple bench seating areas resided. There were only a few other individuals at the bar, several seats down when she took a seat on the far right. Grabbing the rifle off of her back, she rested it against the bar between her and the wall before raising her hand in a small gesture for the bartender.

"Be there in a minute, girlie." Ignoring the man's words, Arwen gripped her fist with her right hand, resting her chin on her thumbs.

Despite feeling more at ease, her shoulders were still tight, and her back was tense. She needed to disappear for a while. After that phiasco, there would be bulletins out for her; she'd be on the HoloNet News probably. The police droids most likely snapped images of her; they'd have a loose idea of her face, but not enough to use recognition software. If she stayed low for a while, she might be able to stay on Coruscant but… She'd have to wait a long while before things cooled down. It might just be easier to leave. However she didn't have enough loose credits to get off-world.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment before running a hand over her hair that was braided off to one side; her bangs were loose and tousled from the hood she'd since removed. Movement on the other side of the bar counter caused Corcer's eyes to lift, and she met the gaze of a human male.

"What can i get you?"

"I'll have an Ardees." Something strong and bitter to ease her nerves.

"If you don't want the nonalcoholic version, I'll need to see some identification." The man responded, resting one hand on the counter. Her previous job didn't exactly give her an identification card, much like in the Republic's military. That was something civilians had.

Arwen closed her eyes momentarily before looking the bartender in the eye. Letting on hand slide away from the counter and to her lap.

"I just finished a job with Gerdon; that should be enough." Arwen countered. If you knew the name, it was essentially a pass. This bar was named Lanter's because that was the façade Gerdon used, and if you knew his real name you were involved in his _work_.

The bartender's expression flickered with mild uncertainty before he gave a curt nod and went to prepare the drink.

Feeling her expression soften a bit, Arwen let her gaze fall to the counter before she returned both arms to the surface, balancing her elbows on the edge.

Putting off a threatening vibe to everyone she came into contact with was tiresome; infuriating at times. It wasn't really who she was, but she had plenty of anger to expel, which made it easier on days like this. That aside, most of these people were rotten anyhow.

The satchel settled in her lap, Arwen tapped her thumb against the back of the other as she waited. Letting her gaze bounce subtly around at the space off to her left, she lingered on a few different individuals before drawing her attention back.

"Look a little tense there, kid." The bartender announced, setting a glass down before pouring the liquid.

Arwen waited until he was finished and had pushed the glass closer before she grabbed it and downed it. She hid the grimace as the liquid burned her throat for a moment before setting it down with a grumble.

"Close call on a job." She decided to say. Bartenders sometimes made small talk; it was harmless enough and this guy wasn't giving off a deceptive vibe. She could always tell that about people; read their character, at least in the moment. Something her squa… it was something some people she used to know would call her 'special power'.

"I've had my fair share of ones like you coming out with that look." The man gestured towards her with the bottle of Ardees. "Boss sell you out on a job?"

Arwen eyed him for a moment, considering her options before giving a slight twitch of her eyebrow. "I'm sitting here aren't I?"

"That you are," He chuckled, going to pour more of the bitter liquid into her glass once she had held it out. Filling the glass he set the bottle of Ardees down close enough for her to reach before patting the counter. "Help yourself, kid."

Arwen simply gestured towards him with the glass before going to drink down more of the strong liquid.

Once he walked away, she set the glass back down and cleared her throat. It had been months since she'd adopted the façade, but she still wasn't used to the amount of alcohol she'd find herself consuming at times; even to appear to blend in with the criminal/low life element. The nature of her previous-... job… Prevented her from drinking often. And even then she didn't really have a need to. Now she found herself with the occasional drink just to calm her nerves. Thankfully she could hold herself pretty well after consuming alcohol.

Swallowing the remnants of the bitterness in her mouth, Arwen went to raise the glass again.

"Hey- the Commander wants us back by 2300."

Her hand froze before the glass reached her lips, parted lips closing as she clenched her jaw. Keeping her posture where it was, Arwen looked out of the corner of her eye, turning her head only a fraction to the left as she quickly spotted the source of the familiar voice.

"Of all the bars you could think of - you chose _this one?_ Seems a little… dicey." Arwen spotted the four clone troopers heading to an oval shaped bar area in the center of the room, their backs to her as they came to the counter.

"Maybe so, but not as bad as The Nexu's Den; I heard they don't even serve clones."

"79s serves clones, and its not down here in the-"

"Don't get your blacks in a bunch, this place is fine. The Corporal says he's been here with some guys; they didn't have any problems."

Turning back to face the counter, Arwen's grip on the glass in her hand tightened momentarily.

These guys were on break. The authorities probably hadn't even processed the incident involving her yet. And by the armor markings- these guys were probably back on leave. They wouldn't be a problem. But all the same… She needed to leave.

Grabbing some credits from the satchel, Arwen waved the bartender over before putting the small pile of money down, discreetly sliding it towards him.

He took it with a nod but quickly noticed the amount far surpassed the bill for her drink.

"I- kid-"

"I wasn't here." Arwen cut him off, searching his expression for a sign of reassurance to her comment.

The bartender processed her words before ultimately giving a small dip of his chin, carefully moving the credits to his pocket.

Arwen patted the counter and gave him a nod in return before getting to her feet. Swiftly swinging the rifle over her shoulder and securing the satchel, she began heading out of the bar.

Her eyes drift off towards the soldiers at one of the main bars, all seemingly enjoying themselves and toasting their drinks.

At the sound of their laughs she clenched her jaw and looked away before continuing out of the establishment. Before her thoughts could dwell too much on her past however, a medium sized ball of fur suddenly crowded her at the entrance to Lanter's Tavern.

"Hey Bek," Arwen chuckled, kneeling a fraction to greet the anooba happily panting, hindquarters shaking with excitement. Kneeling down onto one knee, Arwen rustled the fur around his neck before leaning back in surprise at the smell of the animal's breath.

" _Whoa_ \- _what_ did you get into?" Arwen can't help the smile that broke across her face as she got to her feet once more. "C'mon bud," Heading down the walkway outside of the tavern, the anooba followed eagerly. "Let's get something to eat."

It was around 2200 by the time Arwen got to her basecamp for the night. She couldn't stay in a hostel because of Bek; most establishments didn't allow animals, and even then, she couldn't trust such establishments to be safe - especially with the heat that could be coming down on her soon.

Fishing into the bag of food, Arwen pulled a couple of nuna jerky strips, holding one out to the Anooba who was waiting patiently.

She felt the smile tug at her lips as Bek didn't waste time in beginning to chew on the meat. Lifting her own strip, Arwen peeled off a small piece before tossing it into her mouth. Her eyes rose to trace the skyline of Coruscant. Sometimes it looked alright… Right now it didn't look too bad. The lights that covered the planet contrasted with the darkness of the sky; the lines of traffic were relatively calm; rush hour was long past. From her perch on the roof of a building she could see several notable structures, as well as multiple Republic cruisers in the distance.

The sight of one Republic cruiser in particular caught her eye as it departed from the cruiser staging area; a _Venator_ -class star destroyer. The familiar rumble of the engines of the large ship made her chest tighten as she stared longingly after the vessel as it took off towards the atmosphere.

Drawing her eyes away, Arwen continued to pull at her jerky, putting a small bite-sized piece into her mouth. After giving a moment to consider it, she put the food away, having lost her appetite and pulled the satchel into her lap.

She felt the warm breath of Bek panting and looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

"You had your share, mister." The anooba only gave a small bark of protest before beginning his circles to lie down.

Opening the satchel, Arwen looked over the credits and tousled them a bit before nodding to herself. It was more than she really needed. Not nearly enough to get off world, but half of it had a home to go to.

"Looks like we'll have to hitch a ride to Saleucami, bud." Arwen looked down at Bek, who had since curled up in a ball beside her.

His head perked up at her words, ears standing at attention before his mouth fell open and he began panting again.

Scratching along the standing fur of his back, Arwen gave her companion some well-deserved attention for a few minutes before resting back against the sloped structure acting as her bed for the night. One thing from her training she didn't take for granted- learning to sleep anywhere and everywhere.

The Anooba next to her stretched his legs out, giving a yawn that showed off all of his teeth, and absence of the large front tooth, before settling back down. She had found him early on when she arrived on Coruscant. She had come across him while on a job, the target had ties to the animal trade; but when she found Bek, it was obvious he'd been used for dog fighting. He'd had his front tooth removed, a vital defense mechanism against other predators. Since the job he'd followed her around ever since; disappearing at times when she had jobs, but popping up hours later just as happy to see her.

Adjusting her head where she laid, Arwen let her eyes gaze up towards the night sky. It was settled. She'd head off-word; get to the outer rim or at least away from the core words for a bit. She could head to Saleucami and meet up there with a friend before getting back to it.

**The Next Day…**

She'd been to countless establishments - too many - looking for work. She needed a big payout to get off-world and she needed it fast. She was getting desperate. She'd visited at least two dozen locations now, and dealers and contacts that usually had plenty of jobs were coming up empty, or with jobs with too little a payout.

There would be plenty of work in the outer rim, but getting there was the problem. Just hiring someone to get you there, in the middle of a war no less, was the problem. The only stipulation she had was how job offers would change the further from "civilized planets" she got; it would be harder to stay anonymous as a gun for hire out there. Regardless of that risk- she needed to get away from the Republic before they started tying her to any jobs. If they knew some of the jobs she'd taken out… One could just say she wouldn't see the outside of a prison cell for the rest of her life.

Not that she took "bad" jobs. She had been relatively consistent in keeping her jobs focused on the vile and corrupt; it was her methods of dealing with those people that the authorities wouldn't agree with. And her… history with the Republic Military wouldn't help matters.

Coming to a slow stop outside of one of the last establishments she'd come to know, Arwen found her eyes meeting the sign above the building: One Round - just your average dicey bar, however like many of the businesses, there was always some morally grey business going on the side. Your average civilian would see the name of a bar like that and assume it meant one round of drinks, which it did. But in the criminal world, it also stood for one literal round, as in ammunition. She'd gotten some credible leads from the bartender that ran the establishment. Hopefully he had something.

Walking inside, Arwen was quick to notice it was quite busy; more so than she'd expect it to be for the late afternoon. Bek trotted along at her side as she made her way to the back of the room where she knew Ramic, the bartender, would be. He seemed to spot her in the sea of people before she even did, and he waved her over to one end of the bar that was less crowded.

"Corcer," He gave her a small acknowledgement as she stepped up to the counter and leaned forward onto it, not bothering to take a seat.

"Ramic," Arwen responded in return, watching as he went about cleaning several glasses that littered the back counter.

"You lookin for the usual? Cause I hate to tell ya this, but I-"

"Actually, I'm looking for something a bit- stronger," Arwen chose her words carefully as she watched the bartender's movement and shifting expression.

He seemed to process her statement for a moment before looking over towards her.

"Stronger eh?"

Corcer dipped her head in response, forearms supporting her weight on the bar counter as Bek seated himself near her feet, facing away from the bar and towards the crowd.

"... I might have something." He seemed to be considering his words, his voice grew quieter. "It's no easy feat I warn ya. Few others tried it, and it was a little too much for their tastes."

Shifting her weight around so her hands could clasp in front of her while she leaned on the counter, Arwen thought quietly to herself.

Most likely a high risk job. That might come with heat. She needed to be careful. Accept the wrong job and she could be in serious trouble.

"Have any other details?" She tried.

He gives her a small shake of his head, setting a couple more glasses down behind the counter.

"Sorry, kid. That's all I know."

Arwen nodded in response, the movement turning into a head shake as she internally cursed herself.

"Haar'chak - I'll give it a shot."

Ramic seemed hesitant, brow knit and hesitant eyes searched her for a brief time before he finally nodded and gestured towards the door a ways away from the bar.

"Your man is back there."

Arwen looked to him and then the door, seeing two guards. Standing up straight, she quickly tipped Ramic with what credits she had in her pocket before heading over. She didn't miss the nod he gave to the guards, most likely a signal to her let pass.

They stepped aside and Arwen walked through the space and down a small hall. She'd never taken a job directly through One Round before. Usually Ramic would point her in the direction of work, but it never originated out of the bar. He owned the establishment; unless things had changed recently.

Coming to the end of the hall, Arwen stopped at the final door. The muffled sound of the music from the other room was still within hearing range, but quiet enough that there must be sound dampeners within the walls of the hall and possibly the doors as well. Not a good sign.

Arwen looked down at Bek, seeing the anooba looking at her expectantly.

"You ready?" She deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow.

The animal stepped back and forth between paws, something he did when excited before giving a small bark.

She breathed out sharply through her nose in amusement before nodding.

"At least someone is." She mumbled to herself before pushing the control panel button for the door. It slid up with ease, and she quickly met the gazes of multiple individuals. The majority of them were human, however there was a Duros present, and a Rodian. Just by body language and appearance, she quickly picked out the potential client, and when her gaze landed on him expectantly, he seemed mildly impressed.

"If Ramic let you in, you must be fit for the job." He evaluated her momentarily, gaze lingering on Bek for a moment before returning to her eyes.

"Care to enlighten me? Ramic was pretty sparse on the details." Arwen cocked her head to the side lightly, taking a few steps into the room. Getting comfortable in her stance, she rested her hands on her belt.

"Forgive him on that account," The man had his hands clasped as he took a seat adjacent to a desk, facing her. "The nature of this task demands a certain level of delicacy. We can't just have the details flying around, I assume you understand this."

He was rather pale in his complexion, dark hair and a somewhat square jaw. He had a strong but almost dainty build, dark eyes and hair shaven down low to his scalp; didn't look like the type to handle dirty work himself, but certainty had the deep pockets to have someone else do so. He evoked a certain confidence, but also perniciousness; it wasn't enough to make her uncomfortable, but certainly cautious. There was something off about this job, she could already feel it.

"Of course," Arwen appeased him with the response, and he seemed somewhat delighted, but remained eerily at ease as he rose from his seat.

"I need explosives planted at a certain location. A few have attempted other locations of the like, however they haven't yet had success."

Arwen swallowed in an effort to prepare herself to speak. This wasn't the kind of job she was looking for.

"Where would this location be?" She asked.

"Destabilization is the key." He all but ignored her question and continued with his subtle monologue.

"Enough with the dramatics," Arwen cut him off, causing him to slowly turn with a soured expression. "What _is_ the job?" Her tone leaked with mild agitation, expression relaxed but set hard in a display of confident frustration.

His eyes fell to her boots, and to Bek for a moment before they rose once more and he pulled a hand-held holoprojector. Activating the device, a hologram of a location rose into the room. The space was dark enough that she could easily make out what was in front of her and she felt a cold sweat start to bead between her shoulder blades beneath her armor plating.

"That's a Republic Military base." She stated, looking the hologram over further despite not needing to second guess before turning her eyes to the client.

"Indeed it is," He responded. "My superiors would like to see a blow struck to it. We need someone to go in and plant the devices in suitable locations; casualty high locations are preferred; barracks, mess halls, weapons depot... Locations that will shake the Republic's stability, and hurt its military power here on Coruscant; but most importantly, weaken the people's faith in the Republic's military might."

Arwen was quickly thinking it over in her head as he spoke. No easy way out of this situation. If she turned the job down, it was very likely that they'd kill her right here. This could be a Separatist cell, it was a likely candidate. However it could also be a crime faction. Didn't seem Hutt related, although she couldn't eliminate that possibility.

Taking in a steady breath, Arwen pulled her eyes away from the projection to meet the eyes of the client.

Ramic, needless to say, was caught off guard when Arwen slumped down into one of the stools in front of the bar.

"Well, how'd it go?" He puffed out a hard breath with amusement before going to pour something into a glass.

"You could've given me a little insight into my lack of choice in this job once I entered that room, Ramic" She offered, gesturing back with a thumb over her shoulder.

He gave her a subtly apologetic look before setting the glass down in front of her. "Sorry, kid, but if I told people that, then they wouldn't be interested." He chuckled and Arwen couldn't help but do the same, however it was more so from the nerves if anything.

"How's it looking?" He leaned on the counter for a moment as Arwen took the glass and downed the drink rather quickly. He watched curiously before his brow knit and he pulled his lip tight. "That bad?"

"Worse. I'm not looking for that kinda heat; I get caught or this goes sideways and… It's not looking great." She tried to sum it up simply, but couldn't really find the words. She still needed to process this herself, and also beat herself upside the head with something.

Finishing the glass of the alcoholic beverage, Arwen set it down and patted the counter.

"Thanks for the tip." As playfully reluctant as her tone may have been, the man seemed apologetic.

"Good luck, kid."

Arwen pulled out some more credits, covering both the drink but also the job tip before giving him a lazy two finger salute. Briefly looking down at Bek, she made her way out of the bar.

The client, who didn't even provide a name, had given her a set of coordinates. Once there, she'd meet up with one of his associates who would provide her with the supplies she'd need to carry out the job.

As she walked the upper streets and walkways of Coruscant she finally came to the end of the road. She'd call an air taxi and get relatively close to where she needed to go. Her eyes catch the sign above a building and she quickly realizes where she is; she'd been walking so blindly and ended up in the last place she should be.

The weakening daylight did little to dull the sign that blinked in bright neon colors: 79s. She knew it was one of the clone tolerant bars, even before hearing a trooper mention it last night.

Feeling her back begin to tense, Arwen searched the skyline for incoming traffic, but found no air taxis in site.

"Great." She muttered to herself. She could be here a while.

Her rifle disassembled and hidden away in the satchel she'd acquired, she blended in alright. No one was paying her too much mind thankfully.

The various sounds, including the humming and rumbling of ships and speeders in the sky, as well as the chatter around her and music coming from the bar was distracting, but not enough to put her completely on edge. If anything she felt exposed where she was, it was pretty open and being at the corner of the walkway waiting for an air taxi was something she didn't enjoy doing.

Her ears perked slightly, picking out familiar voices in particular.

She cursed quietly through her teeth before glancing to her right, seeing several troopers a ways down the walk, huddled near the railing of the walkway. A woman was cozying up to one of them.

Her interest perked, Arwen allowed herself to watch quietly as the woman let her hands glide along the torso and chest plating of the trooper who looked especially nervous but equally exhilarated as the troopers around him seemed increasingly amused by the event unfolding.

Arwen couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips before she forced herself to look away with a slight shake of her head. It was innocent enough.

A couple moments passed, and Arwen felt a nagging feeling tugging at her to look again. Finally giving into the temptation, she spared a glance towards the troopers and the woman, only to have her eyebrows jump in surprise.

She watched as the woman slipped a hand into one of the pockets of the trooper's belt while he was distracted, snatching a few credits.

Arwen felt her lips part in disarray and astonishment. As if those men had anything to begin with, you've got pickpockets preying on them now.

The woman coddled him a little more before walking away in Corcer's direction.

"Unfortunate," Arwen muttered before adjusting the grip she had on her belt buckle. Taking a small step back, Arwen waited until the woman was close enough before smoothly and intentionally taking a wide step, tripping the woman and causing her to fall and the credits to go flying.

The woman let out a startled cry as she landed awkwardly on her stomach, hands splayed out towards where the credits fell out of her reach.

Arwen took several steps around the woman and picked up the scattered credits. People in the vicinity had noticed and the woman went to snap at Arwen once she got to her feet, but backed off once she got a better look. While Arwen was being rather discreet in her clothing, she still looked like a hired gun. That was for sure.

Bek growled at her side, catching the woman's attention as she seemed infuriated, quickly disappeared into the crowd, hands balled in fists. Rolling the credits around in her palm, Arwen hesitated a moment before taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"How much did you have on you?" She turned, walking towards the troopers who still wore expressions of surprise.

"What?" One asked, familiar brown eyes wide. He was the one the woman was getting handsy with.

"Credits," She reaffirmed. "How much did you have on you?" She tossed them lightly in her hand.

"Um," He swallowed and stuttered a bit further, subconsciously going for his pocket before he swallowed, trying to recall as his comrades looked on with amusement.

Arwen took the moment the soldier was processing his thoughts to look him over. He looked so young. He must be pretty fresh off Kamino; the troopers with him looked about the same.

"Here," She took the opportunity of him being distracted to lightly grab his wrist and push the handful of credits into his hand. It was probably three or four times as much as he originally had on him. "Watch those pockets, boys, alright?" She warned, a little taken off guard by the warmth in her own voice before she turned to leave.

"Th-Thanks," The statement was called after her. "Don't tell the Sarg." The second statement came quieter and Arwen smiled.

"When we get back to base you're gonna-"

The smile fell away and Arwen drew her attention off of the soldiers. The base… right. The one she was about to…

She walked for a while back the way she had come before finally grabbing an air taxi. After briefly squabbling with the driver over Bek's presence, she finally got the Sullustan to take her where she needed to go. By the time she arrived at the destination, it was around sunset, and she met the associate on the roof of a building at the edge of the newly added Military district. The Republic's main military base was within view; still under construction. It wasn't the target she was being hired to hit. There were other military bases in the area.

The Quarren seemed curious regarding her, or maybe surprised.

He chuckled as he handed over a large cloth bag full of the ordnance she'd need.

"Good luck," He muttered before walking away.

Arwen felt somewhat sick as she held the bag strap in an iron grip before looking over her shoulder as the being left.

"Take as long as you need. But it shouldn't take more than a few days tops."

She clenched her jaw before reluctantly returning her gaze to the Coruscant skyline ahead, towards one of the GAR bases that was in view, but much farther than the base currently under construction.

She gritted her teeth briefly before shaking her head, letting her voice slip out in a whisper. "What are you doing?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :) I'd like to post the third chapter sometime next week if luck is on my side. Until then, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciated :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chap (obviously). Things are starting to unfold and recognizable characters will be prominent going forward.

**Coruscant. Edge of the newly established Military District. 0500 hours.**

From her position, Arwen could see most of the base covered in a haze that had been slowly dissipating as time passed. She sat on the top level of an apartment complex which was under construction. The work crew had leave for the next few days and she found it relatively easy to climb the structure without issue or worry of being punished for trespassing. 

The air was relatively crisp, for the upper levels of Coruscant at least; which wasn’t saying much. The further down you went the more toxic and polluted the air got. The sky was a range of blue and greys, the horizon lightening in color as the minutes went by. It was early; much of the planet hadn’t risen yet, however that meant very little with a population of over a trillion. 

Due to her being so close to the Military bases, traffic in the skies was few and far between, since the bases had begun development, traffic lanes had been rerouted around those locations for security reasons. 

She’d been staring at the base for almost thirty minutes now. It was pretty quiet. She’d see troopers on the wall walking about as well as troopers within the base now and again, however movement was infrequent and slow. Military life started early, especially during wartime; whatever battalions were stationed at this base might be on a leave of sorts. These guys were probably on a much deserved break… great. The thought almost made her stomach flip as she pressed two fingers to her temples and squeezed for a time.

She was torn. She felt the guilt eating away at her, gnawing at her like an open wound. It shouldn’t be a problem. This was the life- what she signed up for; they would’ve killed her if she hadn’t taken the job, and something told her there was a daunting and formidable force backing the client.

… She needed the money; it made her sick acknowledging it. It wasn’t for personal gain- just self preservation. She needed to get off Coruscant and as far from the Republic, the Jedi… the Army... as she could. 

This job would hurt people; people who didn’t deserve to be hurt. There was no getting around it. The primary personnel within that base would be troopers, and while she hadn’t developed a personal connection to these specific individuals, her past with them overall just… muddled the waters. What would her team think-.... 

She shook her head quickly and suddenly; pushing that thought out of her mind as far as it would go before breathing in deeply. Resting her head back against the wall of a ventilation unit she had been leaning against, she let her eyes close.

Time to think about the mechanics. She had to do something. If she did nothing there would be no payout. Her knowledge regarding the GAR was probably outdated at this point, but she had a rough enough idea of the best locations to hit. Probably the courtyard where the large scale vehicles were kept. There seemed to be at least nine AT-Tes, twelve LAAT/is, and nine AT-RTs. It was easy to see from a watch point, and if she timed it right, she could do considerable damage without critically hurting anyone. She’d need to watch the base for at least forty-eight hours to log shift rotations and other movements; she’d have to find a good building nearby where she could watch the interior of the base during that time if this complex didn’t work out. 

“What are you doing.” The thoughts dissipated like smoke quickly from her mind as she opened her eyes, shaking her head at her own words. 

A soft whine caught her attention and she looked to the side, seeing Bek eyeing her. He had found her some time in the night. She was never sure how he did it, but he’d find her one way or another. She always made sure that wherever she was held up for the night, it was a spot he could get to just in case. The anooba’s brow moved subtly before his lower jaw dropped and his tongue rolled out as he began to pant. The action made Arwen give a small smile, although it faded as quickly as it appeared, and her gaze shifted towards the sky. She reached a hand out and rustled the creature’s fur, bringing her hand under to scratch the anooba’s chin before letting her hand fall away. 

… She can’t do this. She can’t. What would her team think of her if she resorted to this; it was inexcusable. 

The tension in her posture was causing a subtle ache to begin creeping up her neck and to the crown of her head as she forced her eyes shut, her brow knit. Gently forcing a breath out through her lips she blew the air from her lungs until she was forced to suck in another steady breath.

“What are you doing,” She uttered, sitting up suddenly to adjust her posture before pulling a bent leg up, hugging it closer to her chest. Beads of cold sweet dappled at her palms as she hastily rubbed them along her leg cradled close to her chest. 

Sniffling in a breath, Arwen took a moment to ease her somewhat irregular breathing before glancing towards the anooba still staring at her. A small issue she had recently developed when overthinking was holding her breath or irregularly breathing, which was a terrible habit, especially on a job. 

“What’d you think, bud?” Arwen questioned quietly, eyeing the messy-haired animal before raising her left hand to swipe some of the mohawk-like fur that stopped at the top of his head. “Should be able to find somewhere to sell this ordnance. If not- the underground market should take it without question.” She used her nails to scratch lightly over the creature's scalp, quick to notice how one of his rear legs began twitching in a scratching-like motion, and she smiled. 

She could get quick money for the explosives. Not nearly enough for a one way trip to Saleucami, but she might be able to work off the rest as part of a flight crew on the way to the outer rim.

Arwen found herself nodding lightly. This could work. It wouldn’t be easy, but then again that job wouldn’t have been either. 

With her right hand, she grasped at the satchel sitting on her right before steadily getting to her feet. Her gaze circled back around to where Bek sat patiently. 

“You ready?” She couldn’t bring herself to lighten her voice very much, but all the same, the anooba perked up at her words and got to his feet. Throwing the satchel over her shoulder, along with her other satchel holding the parts to her rifle, Arwen began her descent from the roost. 

Bek went ahead of her towards where a construction step-ladder resided. She followed, maneuvering her way through some of the materials which had been abandoned for the day.

She came to a stop in front of the ladder that led down to the lower levels of the building, her brow twitched slightly as she blinked her eyes before her gaze fell to the ground.

_ You don’t need to look. Why do I need to look?  _

Something gripped her chest and poked and pulled at her back; a nagging feeling. It happened sometimes at random. She needed to learn how to ignore it. 

Turning around, Arwen reluctantly eyed the military base, shrouded in what little darkness was left as the sun would fully rise within the hour. The thick layer of fog and cloud still remained a ways above her, however it was starting to dissipate as the clock turned. 

Her eyes dotted around the structure, jaw hardly set and gaze almost grudging. Sometimes it felt like that little nagging-... force inside her was just trying to make her life difficult and guilt ridden. 

The slightest movement on the far side of the structure drew her attention and her head shifted to the side as she spotted someone walking towards the closest wall on the far left side. Attention grabbed, Arwen watched quietly as the person stopped at the foot of the wall and looked around for a beat. 

They didn’t belong. Something’s wrong. 

Her hand already busy scrambling inside her bag, Arwen snatched her detached rifle scope and quickly knelt down on the ledge of the building, raising the attachment. A small bark of impatience from Bek did little to tear her attention away as Arwen watched the being through the scope.

Female. Possibly human. What almost caught her attention almost immediately was the identical satchel hung over the individuals back. They had sent someone else in.

“No no no,” Arwen grumbled. This wasn’t happening. Continuing to watch through her scope, the individual took one last look around before suddenly shooting a rappelling line up towards the top of the wall. Securing it, the person began to scale the face. 

Why hadn’t cameras picked them up? 

Turning her attention to the towers not far away from the wall the individual was scaling, Arwen adjusted her scope, adjusting the lens before focusing on one of the cameras. Small sparks coming from the device wasn’t a good sign. They were good. They were also about to blow this base sky high with everyone in it. 

That familiar feeling was already starting to course through her veins; the adrenaline was starting to spread through her body. 

Cursing under her breath, Arwen finally throws the scope back into her bag. “ _ Rangir _ \- (to hell with it) I’ll be back, Bek!” Arwen called before running down past the anooba, sprinting towards the lift.

It felt like an eternity before Arwen finally found herself at the foot of the wall, about to scale the same spot the other mercenary had. She did a quick once over of the surrounding area, making sure it was clear before she shot her rappelling line up to the top of the wall. Her training had covered various methods of barrier traversal; this was something she was prepared for. In fact her training covered various raids of simulated republic bases as well. That just now came back to her. Not that it would help her now. It had been a long time.

She still had the satchel full of explosives on her; probably not the best thing. 

Getting to the top of the wall, Arwen looked up and down both ways, seeing a Trooper farther down as he walked away. Maybe a shift change. This other merc would have had to make her move at the proper time so Arwen might be able to operate in the window she’d created. 

Looking around the base below, Arwen quickly saw the other woman sneaking her way around the AT-Tes. Arwen cursed under her breath before waiting quietly for a moment. 

“What are you doing,” She mumbled. Looking around again, Arwen considered her options while she had the briefest time to do so, and began assembling her rifle. 

Maybe she could just take them out before they did any damage. It would alert the entire base to her presence too, but she couldn’t stand by while this happened, and she could get away…. Probably. 

Doing another check, Arwen scanned either side of the wall. No one. She'd have to be quick if it was a shift change. Whoever this woman was, they had to study the shifts and when they changed. She might have another minute. 

Finishing the rifle, Arwen quickly set it to her shoulder and found the woman again before looking through the scope. 

_ Identify. Breathe in. Breathe ou- _

"Hey!" Her head snapped up, seeing a trooper had rounded the corner and saw her.

Arwen cursed before quickly resetting the rifle to her shoulder. The woman had noticed and quickly hid behind an AT-Te for cover as Arwen fired several shots.

"Blast-" Arwen cursed again before looking to see the trooper running towards her, blaster raised. Looking back to the woman who still had the explosives, Arwen clenched her jaw before throwing the rifle down into the base.

“What are you doing-” Arwen grits her teeth before blowing air out quickly, jumping down after the rifle. It was a long way down, longer than she’d like, and she didn’t have her armor to soften that blow. She landed with a somewhat abrupt grunt of pain as she rolled a few times to soften the blow to her legs as best she could. Scrambling to her feet she snatched the rifle from the ground and went after the mercenary. 

"Intruders! We have a perimeter breach!" She heard the trooper's words fading away but she knew the problem wasn't going to. Things were about to blow up, figuratively but possibly literally if she didn't stop this woman. 

Weaving through the large walkers, Arwen ran around the legs of one, only to stumble into a series of blaster fire. Scurrying backwards, she pulled her pistol and shot a look around the walker leg, seeing the woman standing near another walker, holding a small blaster pistol as well, firing off shots.

Arwen hid behind the walker leg for a brief time to get her breathing under control, the throbbing in her leg now screaming, pushing other more prevalent thoughts aside. 

“ _ Haar’chak- k'atini  _ (Damn it- suck it up/its only pain),” She seethed before knocking her head back into the walker leg. Tightening her grip on the blaster, Arwen swung around quickly, firing off several shots, blaster pistol grasped in both hands as she forced the assailant back to cover.

Glancing to the side, Arwen saw troopers organizing near the weapons depot. They were about to have some problems.

"We could just handle this together you know," A voice called. Arwen looked back seeing the woman peeking around a walker leg. "Split the coin and go our separate ways. I could use a hand- someone needs to distract the canon fodder."

"So you can set the explosives then jump ship when I'm gunned down? No thank you." Arwen responded, still holding her pistol up and ready. 

"Worth a shot," She chuckled before turning, shooting off her blaster again before tossing something small and round. Arwen's eyes widened as she quickly held up her arms to protect herself as the presumed grenade went off, spewing out thick smoke. 

Arwen coughed, waving the substance away from her face before walking through, the pistol held up in one hand as she held her sleeved arm to her mouth. Coming to the other side, Arwen noticed the merc was gone and a siren began blaring. 

"Great." Arwen muttered before looking towards the largest structure, seeing her run inside. 

She walked for a time before shaking her head. No turning back now. Huffing Arwen removed her finger from the trigger guard, keeping it outside as she picked up a run. "What are you doing- What are you doing-  _ What the hell are you doing? _ " She cursed herself over and over. 

Running after the woman, Arwen held up her blaster ready in one hand, finger still outside the trigger guard as she took off into the base doors. Seeing the merc disappear just around the corner down the right corridor, Arwen takes off after her. 

Rounding the corner, she saw the merc take a left further down the hall. Something told Arwen this woman had no idea where she was going as they continued down halls. She'd made a giant circle. 

Slowing to a stop down one hall, Arwen caught her breath before looking up and down the corridors. There weren't any troopers which was concerning. They'd been spotted outside the base, and the thick layer of fumes from the smoke grenade had allowed them to sneak inside undetected, but that wouldn't last. 

Looking down one hall that branched adjacent to the one she was standing in, Arwen began jogging down it. If the merc kept running in a similar pattern, she should be able to cut the woman off.

Turning a corner, Arwen came to a hard stop at seeing a trooper with yellow orange accented armor walking away from her, talking on comms. He didn’t have a helmet.

"What do you mean the perimeter was breached?”

The responses the trooper was getting were too muffled for her to hear.

“Yeah I hear the siren- Where were they reported?"

Arwen went to back up when the woman ran around the corner on the other side of the hall.

"No, I haven't-... hey!"

Arwen made eye contact with the woman past the trooper, who appeared to be an officer of some kind.

"Rex I've got eyes on an intruder, south end of t-"

Arwen ran down the hall as the woman raised her blaster and began firing in the general vicinity of where they were. She practically tackled the Officer, who wasn't armed with a blaster, firing off her own pistol until the woman ran away. The string of curses the Officer let out made Arwen scramble off of him before stumbling to her feet.

"I- sorry- Sorry, sir!" She yelled back to him before taking off after the woman. 

Running around the corner, Arwen continued and ended up pushing past a bunch of troopers who were heading the same direction before continuing on. It was all going by too fast. She needed to slow down and consider her own position. 

She finally saw the open blast doors around fifty feet away, and picked up the pace. She saw the woman running for a secluded wall, and continued out of the door. She isn't at all prepared as she collides with something. Her head smacks into something hard, the air pushed from her lungs as she tumbled to the ground along with whatever hit her.

She was on her stomach, slowly pushing herself up, a hand coming to her head. She felt warmth, but also something cool covering her left brow, and woozily lifted a hand to her face, feeling her glove become wet.

Suddenly a hard pressure was put into her back, and she grunted before proceeding to struggle.

"Don't move-" That voice. A trooper. 

An iron grip suddenly snapped the wrist of the hand she had to her head and they were both craned behind her back.

"Rex what-"

"Got her, it's under control." The one who had tackled her, called Rex, who currently had his knee dug into her back just below her chest plate responded.

Arwen craned to see the Officer she'd tackled had jogged up and came to a stop, his eyes on her. "It's not her."

"What do you mean its not her?" The Rex trooper's tone quickly turned tense.

"All due respect-" Arwen grunted, trying to get up only to have the trooper above her dig his knee further into her back as she hissed. "She's getting away," Arwen growled, just able to see the woman disappear over the wall. 

Arwen wasn't prepared for the pressure on her back to suddenly disappear before she was hauled to her feet, hands now cuffed behind her back. 

"Sir, someone just scaled the wall," Another trooper had joined the scene and several others were also coming over.

"Cody?" The trooper, Rex, who still had a hard grip on her, one hand on her shoulder, between her neck and shoulder plate, looked to the Officer she'd tackled inside.

Arwen met his eyes, her brow knit and one twitching from the throbbing that was now becoming prominent. She'd really hit her face hard when that Rex fellow ran into her. 

The officer, called Cody, noticeable scarring over his left eye, dressed in white infantry armor painted with yellow-orange accents, seemed to consider her for a moment before looking towards a small squad of troopers that had shown up. 

"Get another squad and check the outer perimeter. I want to know where they got in."

"South wall, near the west Tower." Arwen muttered, catching the attention of a few of them. "She-"

"Shut it," Rex snapped, giving her a small jolt before pulling her backwards, directing her away. "I'll put this one in containment."

The Officer, Cody, walked up to them and Arwen leaned back a fraction, only to remember she had another trooper behind her when Cody went to remove her rifle, unclipping the strap, sliding it away from her before nodding for the white and blue armored trooper. He was somewhat rough as he turned her around and began walking her inside. 

Wait- where did the satchel full of explosives go… She didn’t have it with her.

As she was being led back into the base, none of it was registering. There was no replay button. What had she done. 

As Anakin walked down the halls of the Republic base, his thoughts dwelled on his wife. Since they’d gotten back from Tibrin, he’d been given a short leave, along with the battalions that had been present for the wretched Campaign. He’d been looking forward to breakfast with Padmé before he got a transmission from Marshal Commander Cody of the 212th Attack Battalion. It was Obi-Wan’s battalion, but Cody had informed him that his former master was unreachable. Whatever that meant. He might be in a meditative session with Master Yoda.

Anakin had reluctantly taken himself from bed, and from the arms of his love, and dragged himself out to the base on the account of intruders that had scaled the outer perimeter wall. He had requested Cody hold off on giving him details; he needed the time to collect his composure and thoughts. 

Arriving at the detention area of the base, Skywalker was met by Commander Cody and Captain Rex of the 501st Legion. He’d temporarily led the 501st on Tibrin. He didn’t have a battle group of his own yet, but whenever the 501st was free, he’d usually lead them on Campaigns and assignments as the legion was part of the 7th Sky Corps, also under the command of his old master. 

“Alright, I’m here.” Anakin breathed, crossing his arms as he came to a stop near the two Clone Officers who were standing over a computer against the wall down the hall of the interrogation block. “Tell me what happened.”

“Sir,” Captain Rex was the first to turn and acknowledge him. His blond hair was trimmed finely and as neat as always. The scar on his chin that he got at Arantara was now light in color and relatively faded. 

Anakin took a step forward as the Captain gestured to the computer screen. His eyes find the recorded footage of two suspects running down the halls of the base. 

“We believe it is now a foiled attempt to bomb this base in some capacity.”

“Separatist?” Anakin inquired.

"Hard to tell, sir. One of the accomplices got away; the other we have in custody." Commander Cody responded and gestured with his thumb over his shoulder towards the interrogation block. 

"Has she said anything?"

"No, sir." Rex jumped back in, looking down the hall where he knew the cell was. "We thought it best to wait for you, sir."

Anakin nodded and glanced down the hall as well before returning his gaze to the footage. He watched as one assailant ran around the corner of a corridor, followed by another at the other end, Cody in the middle. Both appeared to be female. He watched as the one began firing before the other jumped on Cody, then proceeded to get up and say something to the Commander before the chase continued. 

"Which one do we have in custody?" Anakin asks.

"This one," Cody responded, pointing to the screen at the one that had tackled him. 

Anakin nodded before sighing quietly.

"Alright, I'll talk to her." The Jedi nodded to himself before glancing between the two officers. "Anything else I should know?"

"We found this," Rex spoke up, gesturing to a table on the other side of the room with an open satchel full of explosives. "This belongs to that one," Rex gestured down the hall. "The one that got away had one similar in size and shape, so we assume they both came in here with the same intentions."

Anakin processed this before departing to talk with the criminal. He headed to the cell, and the troopers guarding the door stood at attention before the shield disengaged and he entered. She didn't look at him as he walked in, hands clasped behind his back. 

He watched her for a moment, evaluating her posture, and her overall aura. She was difficult to read. The outer shell of her emotional state was disconnected, somewhat cold but also anxious; feelings of guilt surrounded her, although his intuition told him that was something she was struggling to repress. 

He notices the blood covering the side of her head; there was a large wound over her brow, dried as well as fresh blood painted the side of her face. Her eyes had yet to meet his.

"So," He began, continuing to look her over for a time before letting his eyes settle on her face. "You had enough explosive on you to blow this base into the upper atmosphere… Do you have anything to say?"

She didn't say anything, but her gaze shifted to the side, posture also shifting, cuffed hands in her lap. After some time passed he spoke again.

"You don't look like a Separatist... look more mercenary material," He considered. "You getting a big payout?" 

She clenched her jaw but remained quiet, looking to the side, her brow knit gently. Despite the tightness to her brow, she didn’t seem bothered by the obvious injury to her head. She was good at controlling her external presentation.

Anakin finally took a couple steps closer, resting his hands on the edge of the table that was between them. 

"Did you get sold out by our other uninvited guest?"

She remained quiet and Anakin's brow knit after some time passed. He could feel the presence of the clone officers on the other side of the shield, but didn't bother looking. 

“Were you at all concerned with the damage you might do to this installation? Or the lives you might have taken?” The question was an odd one, especially for this individual. They looked mercenary material, and those types didn’t care who they hurt as long as the price was high enough. It was an odd question, but something told him to ask it. 

He knew she was about to look at him before she proceeded to, and his own head tilted slightly to the side as she lifted her head to meet his gaze for the first time. Almost immediately flickers of recognition sparked his expression and his brow knit tightly as he eyed her.

"...Who are you?" He finally asked. The question was vague, and the merc seemed to understand that as she didn’t back down from his gaze. The seconds passed and she gave no indication that she’d respond before she noticeably began to react under his gaze. Her own brow twitched, expression snapping away before returning as he continued to eye her with an almost surprised and confused expression.

She looked familiar. His head wasn’t telling him criminal; he knew her from somewhere else. He had to get his nunas in a row. 

The Jedi eventually excused himself and exited the cell. The energy shield quickly closed behind him as he walked back down the hall and out of earshot. 

“Sir?” Anakin turned and saw Rex standing a few feet away, expression indicating his uncertainty.

"Has the criminal database picked anything up?" Skywalker finally asked, crossing his arms. 

"No sir," Rex responded. "In fact we haven't gotten a hit anywhere. On any civilian system at least."

Anakin considered this for a moment before breathing out quietly. There was something he could try. But if he was wrong...

"Keep searching," Anakin nodded to Rex, causing the trooper to do the same in return before Anakin headed back to the cell.

Cody walked past him towards where Rex was and Anakin entered the cell, nodding for the troopers guarding the door to leave as well. He entered and the shield closed behind him. 

She looked up, watching as he stepped inside and crossed his arms across his chest. 

Silence followed his entry, and after a few moments of processing his next words, Anakin cleared his throat.

“If my suspicions are correct… I think I remember you. We’ve met.” He stated. “Well- We’ve spoken briefly.” He nodded to the side as he corrected his words before taking a beat to consider her reaction.

Her brow knit and it seemed he’d caught her attention, and in a good way. She seemed concerned. Good. That was a good sign. 

“This was around six months ago,” Anakin began, leaning against the wall to the right of the interrogation room, her left. “The Garos system… Someone sent a distress signal to the battle group I was stationed with near Sundari; the distress signal came from Garo IV. Mission details consisted of a clone team with highly sensitive intel that needed an extraction, from what they told me.” He watched her quietly for a few seconds. Her expression seemed to widen as he spoke and she had slowly leaned back into her chair, brow knit with alarm.

"I was the Jedi you spoke to. We sent gunships to extract you but..." He trailed off, his thoughts dwelling on that day. It had stuck with him for weeks before he was finally able move on. 

She stared at him, the silence was deafening and he felt like he was making headway by the look that had overtaken her expression.

"That was you.... wasn't it." He finally stated, the questioning tone from his voice was gone. There was no doubt in his mind. This was her. It was a female voice and he briefly saw the file of who he was speaking with that day when she had identified herself.

She clenched her jaw before looking down to her lap.

A mixed array of emotions were swirling in the small space of the interrogation room, and Anakin felt a sudden need to explain what had happened that day. 

"We thought you were dead." It caught him somewhat off guard when she spoke up. 

"Do I look dead, sir?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was enjoyed. Feedback appreciated. If you have any questions feel free to ask btw! I am more than happy to explain things regarding timeline or period if you are curious (questions regarding when this takes place will be answered as more chapters come out, sort of a matter of patience to see where its going but I understand if you all want to know now!)


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future reference, military (24 hour) time will be strictly used so if you're not familiar I'd have a guide on hand. And the standard week in the "galaxy far far away" is only five days as opposed to our seven.

"A miracle she survived this." Baxter, Sergeant of Trauma Squad, evaluated the ship's damaged hull before turning his eyes to the child. She had since cowered slightly behind the cargo boxes once more and was eyeing all of them with uncertainty. "You're lucky, kid." Baxter considered her for a while longer before he smirked and glanced back at Mash. “What're we going to do with this?”

“I’ll have Razor and Ram scout the area a bit longer.” Mash responded, his gaze remained on the child for a time before circling around the cargo bay. “For now, let’s just get this one back to the Temple and confiscate any ordnance.”

The child watched them as they moved around the cargo bay with nervous eyes. When any of them got close, she'd back further into the safety that the corner of the bay provided. 

This would be a problem. Mash didn't admit to problems often, but this wasn't something they were trained to maintain. Taking care of a civilian, and a young one at that, wasn't in the SOPs - the Standard Operating Procedures - and it certainly wasn't something they clones were charged to do on the daily. Sure there were extraction jobs where they might be charged one day with the safety of a civilian, but this was... different. 

"Jack," Baxter got the attention of his squad's slicer before handing the younger comrade several weapons. 

They cleared the bay of any ordnance and weapons before turning their attention to the bantha in the room. The girl remained stationary in the corner eyeing them. This would be interesting.

"Alright," Baxter sighed, rubbing his palms around the outside of his leg plating as if he were trying to scrub the dirt off his gloves. Taking a couple steps closer, he reached out for the small being. "C'mon kid," His voice wasn't as firm as it had been before they identified the child.

She looked at his outstretched hand and backed further into the corner, her nose scrunched with distaste.

"We're not playing this game kid, c'mon," Baxter grunted as he reached further, not wanting to step into her small safe space as he reached further towards her. The rest of the soldiers watched from a few feet away, posture statue-like as they waited while making little movement. Baxter finally reached far enough and grabbed her elbow gently. 

The last thing any of them expected was for the small child to let out an enraged scream, swinging something metal around, smacking Baxter upside his helmet. The impact, out of surprise from the action, made Baxter stumble backwards as the rest of the men took a step back in surprise.

" _ Osi'kyr! _ " Baxter exclaims, voice somewhat angered before he dodged out of the way of a flying piece of debris. “We got a live one!" Baxter almost laughed before batting another piece of flying trash as the child kept looking for things at her feet to throw at them. 

Mash ducked as an empty weapons cartridge was thrown towards him, and Hawk - who was standing behind him - cursed as the trash hit him in the helmet.

Mash shook his head as the chaos continued, and Baxter seemed to be having more fun now than he'd had in the past week.

"Feisty one, isn't she?!" The Trauma Sergeant snatched the pipe mid-swing as the child went to hit him with it. She yelled in protest, trying to pull the makeshift weapon from the soldier's grasp. Her head barely reached the bust of his chest plate. The kid had some fight in her that was for sure. 

"Baxter- stop fooling around." Mash watched as Baxter picked the pipe up, the girl still clinging to it as she tried to pull her weapon of choice from his grip, her feet dangling and swinging with frustration.

"Alright alright," Baxter raised the pipe further until the kid was almost at his height before grabbing her around the waist with his other arm. The action caused the child to start angrily screaming as she tried to smack him repeatedly, legs kicking wildly.

"Kid-  _ gev- haar’chak _ (stop- damn it)-  _ the hell _ were they feeding you?" 

Mash watched for a time, as the two struggled before turning to Jack and Hawk.

"Why don't you two start taking the ordnance back," Mash suggested.

"OW!-  _ vaar'ika _ (runt) bit me!" 

Mash closed his eyes temporarily before shaking his head lightly. "Let Nines and Char know of the situation for me, will you?"

"You got it, sir." Hawk dipped his helmet in acceptance of his orders before they two left the cargo bay with any confiscated ordnance. 

"Ow-  _ Haar-chak! _ "

"Sergeant" Mash whipped around to see the child under his arm, her trying to grab at him and break free from his hold as she yelled and screamed in protest.

"Don't Sergeant me, Mish, I'm doin the best that I can here." 

Mash closed his eyes for a time before forcing the air from his chest to take a deep breath. Just a few more days. Tops.

"Let's get this one back to the Temple." 

"Ease- for you to say-"

Picking up Baxter's blaster as he went, Mash began walking out of the crashed ship with a struggling Sergeant following him. 

"Get that kid under control," Mash warned, his grip on both blasters tightening as they walked down the main road to the temple. 

"I don't see you volunteering to carry this  _ vaar'ika _ (pip-squeak/runt)!" Baxter snapped, struggling to keep the kid still as he had her over his shoulder. Her feet kicked occasionally, her smaller fists hitting the back of his armor and occasionally the back of his helmet. Good thing his helmet had a seal on it, she wouldn't be able to pull it off. 

Readjusting his grip on the child, Baxter kept his head at an angle leaning away from her slightly as she thrashed and screamed. The last thing Baxter expected to happen on this  _ aka teh haran _ (mission from hell) was this, but part of him wasn't complaining. It was a change of pace either way. They'd work with it.

They were around three quarters of the way back. His Corporal, along with Mash's Corporal were doing a final sweep of the perimeter of the crash site before heading back. Jack and Mash's man, Hawk, were already back at the Temple most likely; explaining whatever this situation was.

Maintaining a firm grip on the child, Baxter grumbled under his breath best he could as she let out a particularly high pitched scream of anger.

"Pipe down, kid!" Baxter finally barked. He felt her flinch at his words and she stilled for a time to his surprise. 

"Ease up, Baxter." Mash looked over his shoulder with his helmeted gaze to meet Baxter's before looking ahead once more. 

" _ Me _ ease up? You want me to shut up or the kid? She’s actin like a  _ nexu’ika _ (little nexu)!" Baxter went to readjust his grip on the kid again when she suddenly scurried backwards, using his belt as a launch pad as she crawled over his shoulder and fell to the ground with a hard thud.

"Oh-  _ dank farrik! _ " Baxter stopped quickly, turning to see the kid slowly picking herself up before cries began to fall from her mouth. "No no no- not that-  _ please _ don't do that-" Baxter took several quick steps towards the little being.

"What is-" Mash turned and saw the kid on the ground and Baxter quickly kneeling down. "What- did you  _ drop her? _ "

"No I didn't drop her- she crawled out of my grip!" Baxter defended himself as he pulled the kid upwards by her arm. Tears streamed down her dirt covered cheeks as she cried, leaving little stains on her face. "Alright, enough kid,  _ k'atini- k'atini ( _ suck it up/it’s only pain) _. _ " His voice softened a fraction as he knelt down so she was a little taller than him, and he proceeded to quickly use his gloved hand to wipe the tears from her face hastily. "I don't have the patience for tears." His hand gently lifted her chin, seeing the skin turning a scuffled red where she most likely impacted on the fall. "Just a scrape, you're fine, kid." 

Her cries had dialed down a fraction, but little sobs still fell from her mouth as Baxter looked her over for a moment. Aside from the dirtied shorts and shirt she was wearing, she was barefoot. He'd noticed it before but now he felt something in his chest ping at the side of her small, dirty feet. It was a feeling unfamiliar to him, he didn’t know what it was, but it was irrelevant right now. His helmeted gaze lifted to her knees seeing they were also newly scuffed from the fall. One had a small trickle of blood that was beginning to descend down her leg. 

"Alright, alright I see it." Baxter huffed before disengaging the pack from his back. Bringing it forward he opened the compartment before snatching the medpac. 

"What are you doing?" Mash walked up. "Can't we do this later?"

"W- She's bleeding." Baxter responded, having paused to look up at the Echo Squad Sergeant.

"Make it quick," Mash finally muttered before turning his gaze out and around them. This was technically still hostile territory in some fashion. No dangerous fauna but the presence of Separatist forces was still a possibility on any given day. 

Pulling a small bacta patch from his pack, Baxter ushered the kid forward. "C'mere- give me a leg," He grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg forward, resting her foot on the knee plate of the leg he had bent towards the ground. She didn't seem to have any reprimands as she held his shoulder plate for support, her small sobs still prominent on occasion but quieter as he stuck the patch over her scuffed knee. The patch was fairly big, engulfing almost half the diameter of her leg, but it did the job. 

"Alright," Baxter grunted as he got to his feet, the child standing idly by as she sniffled and wiped her eyes. Baxter put his pack back on his back before turning his attention to the child. "Let's try this one more time," He reluctantly went to pick her up, hands under her arms as he brought her up to his chest before quickly positioning an arm under her for support. 

Not a single protest fell from her mouth as they began walking again, the child loosely holding onto the rim of his chest plate. 

“Where did you find it?”

“It? We found  _ her  _ on the ship,” Baxter huffed out a laugh at Char’s unamused statement as Trauma’s demolition man eyed the child hiding behind the communications console from his helmeted gaze. “What was left of it at least.”

Trauma Squad as well as three members of Echo Squad were crowded around the opposite side of the command console, eyeing the kid who was hiding on the other side, occasionally peeking around to look at them. 

Jack knelt down, a hand to the ground as he leaned off to the right side of the console, seeing her huddled down. When the child looked his way, Jack gave her a little wave, causing her to hide further behind the barrier.

Seeing her bent knees just peeking out from behind the console, Jack tilts his helmeted head to the side. “That a bacta patch on her knee?”

“She fell on the way back to the Temple,” Baxter shrugged, also still helmeted.

“He dropped her.” Mash added the comment smoothly as he walked across the room on the far side, datapad in hand.

“Hey- I didn’t  _ drop her _ , little nexu was climbing me like a tree- went right over my shoulder,” Baxter argued, knocking the shoulder of his Corporal Ram as his comrade let a couple of chuckles slip. 

Mash continued to log the information into their mission file on his datapad. Communications were fuzzy; they managed to get word to Skipper a few days ago, but more often than not their signals were weak. There was a possibility they were being jammed by a Separatist presence, however nothing had made itself known yet, so it was a waiting game. They’d have to get word to Skipper on this new development however. The kid’s presence might complicate matters.

Mash walked to the front of the room where a wall of computer stations were. Cycling through the footage they had from the crash, he watched it a couple of times before recording down notes on his datapad. The footage wasn’t in great shape, and the pixilation made the picture hard to read. They’d need to head back out and scan the ship for a model number. 

Turning his attention to the side, Mash watched as the men crowded the command console, as if they were waiting for something to happen. His eye line shifted a bit towards the floor behind the console, seeing the child looking at him from her hiding spot. She stared at him for a number of seconds, expression void of fear, but perhaps a subtle curiosity. Mash was the only one who had removed his helmet so far. 

“Take your helmets off,” The order was subtle, but it caught the attention of the other men.

“What?”

“Helmets. Taken em off, you’re scaring the kid.” Mash gave a small jut of his chin towards where she was before looking back down at his datapad. 

Baxter exchanged a small glance with Ram and Jack before shrugging and proceeding with the instruction. Tossing his helmet on the console, he knelt down on the left side of the structure, leaning around to see her knelt down.

Her eyes widened a fraction when he came into view and Baxter smirked lightly as she stared at him.

“Hey there,” He chuckled, swinging his legs around as gracefully as he could in his armor to sit on the floor a few feet from her. 

Nines, who was standing a ways behind Char and his own Corporal, Razor, followed Baxter’s actions, coming to sit near the Trauma Sergeant, legs bent up in front of him. Removing his helmet, the sniper placed it on the ground next to his legs before leaning forward a bit. 

“What class ship was it?” Nines asked, glancing towards the Sergeant. 

“Freighter of some kind,” Baxter shrugged, attention partially on him. “We’ll have to run some scans to be certain.”

“No survivors?”

“Aside from this  _ vaar’ika _ ? None.” Baxter gestured towards the kid momentarily. 

“Alright,” Char sighed quietly and headed back to the small makeshift card table they had on the other side of the room. 

The Sabacc game Nines had lost was virtually gone from his mind as he considered the child. 

“So… What are we gonna do?” Nines craned his neck to look over his shoulder towards his Corporal before shooting a small look towards Baxter. “We should probably feed her, kids eat food.”

“That an educated guess, Nines?” Hawk raised an eyebrow at his batchmate, causing Nines to shoot him an unamused look.

“Very funny.” Nines muttered before his attention turned towards where Char was sitting on the far side of the room. Getting to his feet, the sniper made his way over to where he’d spent a good part of the morning playing cards and snatched a nuna jerky strip from the pot in the middle of the table.

“Hey-! You lost that,” Char barked out in mild protest as Nines ran off with the jerky strip. 

Kneeling down on the ground near Baxter once more, Nines held the small piece of food out towards her.

“Careful, she bites,” Baxter considered the sniper for a brief time as he held the jerky strip out, stretching his arm as far as he could go in his armor without getting too close to her. Nines gave the jerky strip a small wiggle, and the girl’s eyes followed it as he did so before returning to him suspiciously. 

“Go on, take it,” Nines reached a little further, the strip around a foot away within the girl’s reach as he waited. 

Standing a few feet behind where Nines and Baxter were seated on the ground, Jack watched quietly, exchanging a small look with Hawk who stood beside him. Behind them, both Ram and Razor stood silently as well before Ram began walking towards the Echo Sergeant on the other side of the room. Razor took a couple of steps closer to stand alongside Jack and Hawk.

“What’d you boys find in the ship other than this one?” Razor questioned, his eyes meeting that of his comrade Hawk before turning towards Jack. 

“Couple crates worth of ordnance,” Hawk responded, exchanging another glance with Jack. “Trandoshan Hunting Rifles, couple of EE-3 carbines… Few others we need to identify properly.” 

“Some shock whips too.” Jack jumped in, giving a small jut of his chin. 

“Here…. that’s it,”

The three soldiers turned to see the child finally taking the stick of food from Nines hesitantly. She kept her eyes on him as she retracted her hand towards herself, grasping the food protectively as she waited for the sniper to move or act in any fashion. 

Razor breathed a small chuckle as Nines looked back at the others, flickers of amusement on his face.

On the other side of the room, Mash continued to scan through the camera footage of the crash when he felt a presence come up next to him. Ram, Trauma Squad’s Corporal gave the Sergeant a small nod in greeting.

“Anything?”

“No,” Mash shook his head. “We’ll have to head back out; bring some of the scanning equipment,”

“Got any ideas on who they may be?” Ram questioned, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder to see his comrades loosely crowding around the kid. 

“From what was left?” Mash furthered. “Nothing solid, but… the kid is leading me to believe we may be looking at some kind of illegal activity.” Mash met Ram’s eyes momentarily. The Trauma Corporal was somewhat standoffish of Echo Squad in their first few days despite being the mediator when tensions spiked, but Mash had hit it off quite well with the other squad’s Corporal in their time on the mission. He hadn’t spent so much time with another squad since training days before the war started. And even then you never really knew others outside of your squad very well. 

The child watched all of the men cautiously, jerky strip still in hand. She hadn’t tried eating yet, however she seemed to be weighing the decision as the seconds passed. She eyed Baxter and Nines in particular as they were sitting on the ground around ten feet away from her, the command console still providing a very shallow barrier, however they could all easily see each other, sitting to the side of the object. 

“D’you ever wonder what kids think when they see us? Our faces I mean.” The question drew Baxter’s attention towards Nines. 

“What- you wondering what she’s thinking seeing a room full of men with the same face?” Baxter inquired, his own eyes drawing between the child and the soldier.

“Yeah,” Nines responded. “I’d ask her but I don’t think she speaks Basic by the look of it… Did she say anything?”

“On the way back? No, I couldn’t make anything out through all the screaming.” Baxter grunted, getting to his feet.

“But you have such a gentle deposition, sir.” Jack sarcastically marveled at his Sergeant’s words, earning a wide grin from the Trauma Squad leader. 

“Exactly.  _ Vaar'ika _ was actin like I was taking her home to cook her up or somethin,” Baxter laughed. 

A puff of breath escaped Nines’ lips as he smirked at the Sergeant’s words before turning his attention back to the kid, seeing her eyeing him. He tilted his head, eyes full of curiosity. 

“Didn’t take you for the type,” Razor spoke up from behind the sniper, arms crossed over his armored chest.

“Type?”

“To like kids,” Razor chuckled, earning the same action from Hawk who stood by his side. 

Nines rolled his eyes before finally getting to his feet, leaving the kid to munch on the food he’d provided. “Hey Char - Up for another game?” It’s not like they had anything else to occupy themselves with. 

The Trauma demolitions man turned his attention off the data pad he hand in hand where he was sitting at their makeshift game table. “You have anything left to bet with?” He mused gruffly. 

One by one the soldiers went about to their duties in the room. Some began logging the ordnance recovered from the ship while others looked over camera footage or continued with their Sabacc games. 

Nibbling off small bites of the jerky strip, the child watched from behind the command console, her eyes shifting from one soldier to the next. She watched them all as the minutes passed mostly in silence aside from the occasional comment. 

Finally finishing the small stick of food Nines had given her, the child fiddled with the wrapper from the piece of food momentarily, brow scrunched. Her eyes scanned the room, picking out the individual soldiers before settling on two on the side of the room opposite her. They sat on small crates, several large crates about twice the size of the ones they’d been using as chairs between them. She watched as one of them was placing down small flimsi-like cards. Her eyes locked onto a pile of food on the makeshift table and she swallowed hungrily. 

Char eyed his cards quietly, feeling Nines’ eyes on him. He didn’t have great cards but… He was willing to take a chance. 

“C’mon,” Nines gave a small jut of his chin, cards loosely held in one hand as he eyed the Trauma Squad member. “You gotta work on your Sabacc face man.” Nines breathed before finally lifting his cards to eye them carefully once more.

Char gave a subtle shake of his head before adjusting his seat on the box under him.

“Alright,” He huffed. “I’ll raise yo-” His eyes flicked up at a small movement and his gaze locked on a small hand reaching over the side of the makeshift crate-table, grabbing a couple of jerky strips out of Nines’ pile, before slowly descending back down the side and out of sight.

“Well? What’re you raising me?” Nines muttered, eyes still on his own cards. 

“I-” Char’s brow knit together before the hand holding his cards flipped them down towards the table and he leaned over the side of their set up, craning to see the child sitting with her back against the crate, now munching on a jerky strip. 

She obviously felt the eyes on her, and slowly looked over to see Char leaning over the side of the crate-table, an eyebrow raised. She processed his expression for a moment before lifting one of the jerky strips towards him hesitantly.

The tension fell from Char’s face as he processed the action. He felt a slight tug at the corner of his mouth and he swallowed the smile that almost broke.

“I’ll raise you one strip.”

“You must have a really bad hand,” Nines breathed, attention still elsewhere on his own cards before he went to match the raise. His hand went to grab at his pile of jerky strips only to find the pile missing, only a single jerky strip left.

“Uh,” Nines put his cards down and shot a dangerous look towards Char. “The hell’er you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything,” Char grumbled, sitting up on his crate-chair before shooting a small look in the direction of where he knew the kid was sitting, feasting on the sniper’s cash. 

“Then wha-” Nines’ words died as an arm appeared over the side of the crate table and began feeling around lightly for the other jerky strip. Nines watched, his brow knit tightly as the hand came closer to his remaining jerky strip before finally grabbing a hold of it.

Nines snatched one end of it before she could take it completely and leaned over the table to see her looking up with wide eyes. 

“If you’re hungry maybe you should ask for some real food, kid.” Nines suggested before gently trying to tug the strip of food from her grasp. At the action, the girl’s expression scrunched and she angrily tried to pull the jerky strip from his grasp.

“Just give her the damn jerky strip, Nines.” Char deadpanned, watching as Nines took a few tries at wrestling the jerky strip away from the kid before finally letting go. She scurried up and ran towards the command console where Hawk was standing and stood idly by him for a time with her small stash of stolen jerky strips. 

**A Few Hours Later….**

The day passed quickly. Rotations were shorter on Devaron than on Coruscant. The equivalent of 1500 hours on Devaron was around 2100 hours on Coruscant. The nineteen hour day was quickly divided up once they began settling into the Temple and shifts were created. They fleshed out an eight hour night and an eleven hour day based on the what light they had each rotation. 

It was around 1400 hours, and getting close to dark. The light was struggling to make its way through the vine canopy as the sun set lower and lower in the sky.

Mash analyzed the area around the crash site, helmet scans picking up very little in terms of threats. He felt a fight coming. Whether the next few rotations or sometime soon. It might just be his gut talking; itching for a fight. Regardless he felt a need to be ready.

Turning around, Mash took a couple steps towards where the remnants of the cockpit of the unidentified ship were. Baxter was salvaging what he could, however not much seemed to be peaking his interest.

“Anything?”

“No,” Baxter shakes his head from his crouched position on the ground. “This ship model isn’t recognized on my HUD. Although I did find this,” Baxter picked up a piece of salvaged debris from the ship and got to his feet.

Mash took a step closer, analyzing the piece of wreckage further.

“Manufacturer,” Mash nodded before patting Baxter’s shoulder. “Nice work,  _ vod. _ CEC…. That’s the Corellian Engineering Corporation isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Baxter responded. “But I don’t recognize this ship model,” The Sergeant shook his head as his eyes rose to the wrecked ship looming over them. 

“Mash! Over here!” That was Razor. Being part of a small squad meant knowing how to recognize the voices of your comrades over comms even if you didn’t have further identifying notes. Razor was also the only one to address him with his name and not “sir”. Hawk and Nines used his name on occasion but usually felt more comfortable addressing him with his rank.

Baxter followed closely behind as they walked around the freighter wreckage. Razor and Char came into view, small piles of debris around them as they were also searching for evidence of anything to identify the ship.

“Got a freighter model,” Razor confirmed.

“And?” Baxter questioned.

“ _ Aurore _ -class freighter,” Razor exchanged a glance with both Sergeants. “YV-series, YV-865 to be exact.”

“Still not familiar,” Baxter shook his head before turning towards Mash. “Republic’s getting sloppy.” He let out a hard chuckle before going through a series of calculated blinks, bringing up his HUD display. “If we don’t have this information on our HUD databases than they need to start haulin-”

“The database at the Temple probably has what we need.” Mash subtly cuts off Baxter’s jab.

“Should we head back?” Char questioned, exchanging helmeted glances with the other soldiers.

“Yeah,” Baxter responded. “Not much else we can do out here.”

“Want me to contact Ram? We might be able to get someone started on the database search.” As they began walking back towards the road leading to the Temple, Mash turned towards his Corporal.

“No. Comms are weak as it is. And I want to be there when we start the search.” Mash responded. 

“You sure you don’t wanna give them a distraction up there?” Baxter breathed, his rifle at ease in hand as they climbed up onto the road.

“I want them watching the kid.” Mash made clear. “She’s only been here a few hours and she’s already proving… difficult.”

“She’s just a kid,” Baxter breathed. “Whatever hell we just pulled her from, she just needs to level out.”

“She ate all your ration bars, sir.” Char chose to speak up in light of Baxter’s opinion.

“... _ She what? _ ”

The room that the Squads had been using for their sleeping quarters was relatively quiet. Nines eyed the child quietly before slowly looking towards Jack and then Hawk. His gaze eventually rolled back to the kid where she stood next to one of the cots. 

“I mean... I think it works.” Nines considered the girl for a time before nodding and shrugging.

“You think so?” Jack wasn’t convinced as his brow knit together tightly and he turned hesitantly towards the Echo Squad sniper. 

“I mean it’s better than what she was wearing before,” Nines tossed a hand towards her.

The girl watched the men quietly, expression blank as she stood with her arms held a few inches away from her sides. 

“The sleeves are still too long.” Hawk noted, his arms crossed.

The girl slowly looked down at herself before lifting her covered hands.

“She’s like a fifth the size of us,” Nines argued quietly. “I can't make 'em any shorter without cutting them.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Hawk stressed. “I only have a few pairs of those.” He grumbled. 

The girl wore the upper portion of a pair of standard blacks that had a tall collar and hidden zipper that went down the front on the left side. From the mere size of them, the piece of clothing was long enough to be a night gown coming down to her knees. The sleeve had been rolled up several times but they still hung longer than the tips of her fingers. She also wore a pair of socks that barely stayed on her bare feet, but did the job well enough.

She eyed them with the littlest pout to her lips as she stood idly. 

“Alright,” The announcement caused the three soldiers to look towards the door as Ram entered the space. “I’ve got the new schedule ready if you guys wanna start looking it ov- What are you three doing?” Ram’s eyes remained locked on the child as he approached, recognizing the clothing on her. “Dress up?”

“She was cold.” Jack offered, running a hand down the back of his hair with a subtly amused expression as he exchanged a glance with Nines.

“She tell you that?” Ram inquired, eyebrow raised as he walked further into the sleeping quarters and towards the far wall where an old fashioned drawing board was. They had a rough mockup of their patrol schedule for the evening laid out on it. 

“Well- not exactly.” Nines mumbled.

“Alright I got word from Baxter; they’re all on their way back, so let’s look over tonight’s shifts.” His tone was laced with authority, and the men found spots to sit on their own cots with ease.

Ram’s gaze lingered for a moment before sliding over towards where the child stood, seemingly lost as she looked around at everyone.

“Here, kid.” Hawk patted the front of his cot as he sat back against the wall at the other end. “We can share.” She hesitated a second following his words before quietly running over, sitting at the opposite end of the cot, pulling her legs crisscross.

“Alright we’re ready,” Nines smirked as Hawk made sure she was comfortable. 

Ram breathed out quietly before giving a small shake of his head.

“Alright… Squads are switching shifts,” He began, turning towards the board before he began writing things down. 

A chorus of groans followed and Ram paused to see Nines leaning back against the wall, his armor causing a loud clunk to ring out as it collided with the wall.

“Why.” Nines demanded, one leg propped up on his cot while the other hung off the side.

“Your Sergeant prefers the morning shift.” Ram explained, attention on the board as he continued to make changes. “And you have the fourth shift, so don’t complain.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Nines lazily saluted the Corporal with two fingers before leaning his head back against the wall to close his eyes. 

“Hawk, you have third with Razor,” Ram continued. “And Jack, you’re with me at the second. Baxter and Char have the first shift.”

“What shift does the kid have?” Jack inquired, glancing across the room towards where she sat on Hawk’s cot. 

Ram puffed out a quiet laugh and shook his head. “Uh,” Ram waved his hand around lightly before scribbling ‘kid’ down on the board with an arrow pointing to the side. “I’ll ask the Sarg, see where he wants her.”

Back in the Temple, Baxter, Mash, Char, and Razor walked into the communications room. It was empty.

“Where do you reckon they all went?” Baxter chuckled, tossing his helmet into one of the chairs near the computer station before heading towards the command console.

“Ram’s been organizing our shift changes. He’s probably giving them the run down.” Razor suggested. 

Going about the controls on the command console, Baxter began inputting the code to contact Kamino. They had to report the incident to their advisor, Skipper. He felt something nagging at him; aside from the crashed freighter, they had another problem that needed to be reported.

“What’d you wanna do about the kid?” Baxter mumbled quietly to Mash as he walked up beside the Trauma Squad Sergeant.

Mash looked at him, considering his expression before looking down at the console.

“Why are you asking- You wanna do something other than report the situation?” Baxter wasn’t one for regulation. That was something Mash had found out rather quickly. 

“Just don’t think it’s necessarily relevant right now.” The fellow clone suggested, giving a gentle shrug. 

Mash narrowed his eyes a fraction before looking once more at the console table. As much as he didn’t favor withholding information from a superior, Baxter seemed to have a reasoning of sorts backing his words other than his belief in the irrelevancy of the child’s presence. 

“Alright,” Mash gives the littlest nod, meeting Baxter’s eyes. “Next time we report we’re telling him.”

“Fair,” Baxter nodded before activating the transmission. 

The hologram flickered to life after a few seconds, and Skipper’s helmeted face became visible.

“Sergeants,” The Clone Advisor greeted them. “Report?”

“We had an undocumented freighter crash around a klick out from the Temple.” Mash began. “A YV-865  _ Aurore _ -class freighter.”

“Really?” The advisor’s posture changed as he received the information. “Any life forms?”

Mash hesitated a moment, and felt Baxter look at him subtly.

“Not yet. We’re still sweeping the surrounding area.” Mash responded.

Baxter loosely rolled his shoulders and looked between Mash and the hologram quietly as the seconds passed. He was honestly surprised with his own actions for the past week; letting Mash take point in the majority of the situations that presented themselves. Sure he was a little gung ho sometimes, and reluctant to respect a chain of command, but Mash was… He was alright. Unlike infantry, they usually didn’t get a lot of exposure to other clones like themselves after finishing training. It was quite the adjustment dealing with another soldier of the same command, but he was warming up to it. Baxter thought they complimented each other pretty well.

“Keep me posted in the coming days.” Baxter’s attention was drawn back as Skipper finished talking with Mash.

“Will do sir,” Mash gave a nod before ending the transmission. 

“What in the universe were you all doing?” The question pulled both Sergeants’ attentions to the entrance to the room where Ram, Nines, Hawk and Jack were entering, the kid along with them. She wore an incredibly large pair of upper blacks and large socks. 

“Lucky was cold and I-”

“Whoa whoa whoa-  _ Lucky!? _ ” Baxter laughed as he took several steps closer. “You named her? Without me?”

“No no no- you can’t name it. Once you name it, you start getting attached to it.” Char made clear, skeptical eyes watching as the child walked about the room on her own, seemingly less nervous than she had been a few hours prior. 

“It fits doesn’t it?” Jack countered, gesturing towards her with a hand.

“Lucky… I like it,” Baxter chuckled before reaching over as the kid walked by within his reach, ruffling her hair as she went. The action didn’t seem to bother her as she kept going about the room. 

“How old is- she?” Char spoke up once more, arms crossing. “Kid looks at least eight. Maybe. Probably already has a name.” He retorted. 

“Well she didn’t give it, so we gotta improvise.” Nines responded, earning a smirk from Ram.

“You on board with this?” Char pointed towards the kid while eyeing his Sergeant and then his Corporal.

“Oh, the boys wanna know what shift Lucky has tonight.” Ram threw the comment Baxter’s way, giving Char his answer. 

It was around 1600 hours, Devaronian time when the majority of the men were asleep in their bunks. Baxter and Char had the first watch shift, so they weren’t present in the bunk room, however everyone else was. Including the kid who now had a little setup on a makeshift cot on the ground with a pile of blankets from the storage closets. The Temple had plenty of supplies for multiple Jedi, if the Temple had been occupied heavily at one point. Now their spare bedding was being used for the kid.

Hawk rolled over in his bunk, facing the wall where the kid - or as they were now calling her - Lucky, was huddled on the ground in a pile of blankets asleep. Hawk eyed her quietly while on his side. 

They all guessed she might be around eight or nine, however her quiet demeanor and emancipated look might be fooling them. Medical training was something they were all equipped with; it didn’t take a scientist to know she hadn’t been in great company before they found her. 

Turning back over in his cot, Hawk huffed before forcing himself to close his eyes. Going through the checklist in his head, he relaxed the muscle groups in his body, forcing himself to start winding down when something prickled on his back. His eyes popped back open and he turned to look over his shoulder quickly, seeing the kid standing over him with a blanket bunched in her arms.

“W- hi,” Hawk mumbled quietly, eyes jumping around the room to make sure he didn’t wake any of his brothers. 

She stared at him before looking down at his cot. 

His eyes followed hers and he swallowed awkwardly before glancing around the room again. “I uh… You need somethin, kid?”

The large blanket in her grasp, she looked down at his cot where there was around a foot’s width of space behind the soldier before she began placing her blanket down on the empty space.

“What- no no no,” Hawk shifted, his back still somewhat facing her as he looked over his shoulder and reached over to stop her. “See that?” He whispered, pointing over towards where her little set up was. “That’s your spot kid,” Hawk made clear. “This is my spot.”

She seemed the least bit confused as she pulled her blanket away slowly, action indicating uncertainty. Hawk eyed her quietly before his mind wandered back to earlier in the day. He’d told her they could share his cot when they went over shift schedules. So she must have understood them on some level. 

Sighing quietly, Hawk thought over his options before glancing over his shoulder to the extra space on his cot. … It couldn’t hurt to let her this one night.

“Alright, kid,” Hawk patted the spot behind him on his cot before turning to face the opposite side again. “Just this once,” He grumbled before getting comfortable again. 

A couple of seconds passed before he felt little movements from behind him, and the kid climbed onto the side of the cot with the blanket she’d brought with her. 

He waited a couple of minutes, having a hard time relaxing now that he could feel the kid’s minuscule movements every couple of seconds; every time her back touched his she seemed to shrink away. 

It was an odd feeling. Not the physical contact, but what he felt with a kid in his presence. He didn’t feel much of anything really but… Then again he wasn’t trained to feel much of anything towards civilians. He hadn’t had any contact with civilians yet; this was his first one. What did they think about clones? It wasn’t his place to wonder it and if the Kaminoans knew he was so inquisitive about civilians they’d probably decommission him but… Razor would share the gossip he overheard sometimes. Infantry had a lot more exposure to civilian life and civilians in general. So far their squad hadn’t gone into any civilian areas. There had only been warzones devoid of life other than battle droids and geonosians. 

Resetting his head on his bent arm, Hawk relaxed his knit brow and closed his eyes, letting out a quiet breath. He wasn’t going to hear the end of this in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is reading - I hope it was enjoyed. Feedback is appreciated :)


End file.
